#i am rotting in the brain again

[avituses]

Save me toxic old man yaoi

Comic dialogue stolen blatantly from a reddit comment that I sadly couldn't find again

[lazylittledragon]

missed them <33

[segaphantom]

I can't believe i'm still discovering things from Unleashed in the year 2025.

I've been analyzing the intro again for an animation i've been working on, and I'm not sure if anybody caught this detail and i'm just slow to realize it:

His skin goes pitch black from an initial surge of Dark Gaia energy flooding underneath his skin

and then it bleeds back to his regular skin color from the finger tips (don't mind his horrible fingienails)

But the initial bloom that stays is what pales his hand to the light blueish-gray skintone the werehog usually has. Dark Gaia sure gives one awful body-wide bruise

other silly little details that I only just discovered:

-You can see him turn his head away in the upper right corner of the reflection

-The slam actually cracks the glass underneath

[aealzx]

(continued ideas from this post, with the end part added in because of @silverspectre51 's comment about wanting a reunion scene)

The first time Danny had spoken to Jason he’d asked him not to tell anyone he had been there. He knew that the only reason his new family was safe from the enemies of his former life was because no one there knew about it, and no one outside of them knew he was still alive. So he’d asked Jason to keep his existence a secret, and was grateful when he agreed.

That didn’t stop him from taking Jason up on his offer that he was welcome there any time. Danny tried not to leave too often, for his sister and friends noticed when he was gone too long and tended to ask where he went. But sometimes the chaos of his life needed the stillness that was only brought by the small memorial Jason had made.

It also helped that Jason was a really cool older brother figure. He was gruff, and stand off ish at times, but it was easy for Danny to tell he was just awkward with emotions. There was always some sort of treat at the memorial when Danny arrived. Cookies, a candy bar, leftover chinese food. Danny always ate anything that was left, and Jason never asked how it was possible. They sometimes talked, but Danny never interacted much with the environment. It was easier to keep his presence hidden if he remained intangible, and Jason just assumed that’s how ghosts were.

It was because of the few visits that Danny found out Damian was targeted. Learned that whoever had targeted his twin had gotten the jump on him, and Jason and others had received a distress signal from him.

Danny was there first.

Being a ghost meant he didn’t have to strictly follow the laws of physics, and as Jason ran to his motorcycle Danny left him behind. His subconscious mind told him he should wait and only appear if he was actually needed. He hadn’t been needed so far afterall, so whoever these people Damian knew were, they had to be good. But the active part of Danny’s mind told him he could get in and out without being seen. Especially since when he arrived at the burning warehouse Damian was already unconscious, his limp body having been tossed to the floor.

Danny didn’t let the enemy get closer. He couldn’t make himself known as Phantom, couldn’t allow others to know Phantom had left his haunt of Amity Park. And so he allowed his true ghostly form to manifest. The one that manifested his accidentally begotten crown and matching wings, as well as the uniform he’d first died in, and the mark of his grandfather’s hand that had choked the life from him. Not even Sam or Tucker had seen this form, so he figured he would be unrecognized.

His appearance came with a distorted clap from the sound barrier being bent, his half alive form muffling the noise as though it were caught in a void but doing little to alleviate the pressure that came with it. As far as the enemy knew Damian was alone, and a blink of the eyes later a solid figure was half hovering above him protectively, an otherworldly sphere of energy held in his other hand.

“BACK OFF!”

Danny’s belted command came with a tiny burst of sonic waves echoing the ghostly screams of wailing dead. Just enough to reinforce his point and potentially burst some eardrums, but not enough to even come close to exhausting him.

They didn’t back off. Because why would they? Damian was no small prize to let go so easily.

And so Danny met their attack, his hand subconsciously scooping up Damian’s blade from where it had fallen. It had been a long time since Danny had fought someone fully alive. But his body remembered the training he’d been given. It was one of the reasons he didn’t fight with a weapon as Phantom. The blade flowed too easily for him. It was harder to be lethal with bare hands. But with a blade even someone with a form as small as his could overpower the brute that had targeted his brother. In moments he had the man on the floor, any goons he may have had having long fled as Danny raised the blade above his head, eyes locked onto the invisible target on the man’s throat.

“DANNY?! WHAT- STOP!”

The command didn’t halt Danny’s hands from plunging, but they did miss their target. The blade stabbed halfway into the concrete next to the man’s throat as Danny’s full consciousness returned to the front of his mind.

He knew that voice, and she shouldn’t be here.

“...Jazz?”

Danny’s voice shook in a whisper as he turned to look at this sister, somehow standing near the entrance of the warehouse. She wasn’t supposed to see him like this. He wasn’t supposed to do this anymore. With a gasp he flinched away from the hilt his hands had a death grip on, his form jerking away as though it had burned him.

“Is this where you’ve been sneaking off to?” Jazz demanded, her entire frame shaking from adrenaline from seeing her baby brother almost murder someone. He looked so different when she’d gotten there. So foreign to the Danny she knew. But she had long known that he had a past none of them knew about, and could only think this had something to do with it. “Have you been coming to Gotham to murder people?” she demanded. She would regret the phrasing of her question later, that obviously wasn’t the right thing to ask. But it was a little hard to think straight right now. She had followed Danny there, but she hadn’t meant to confront him about his escapades until later.

“N’no- I was just,” Danny stammered, suddenly feeling like thousands of unkind eyes were watching him, and shifting his gaze to his clawed hands.

Someone else arrived. A purple suit and blonde hair, dropping from the ceiling and running towards Damian. “Robin?!”

It drew Jazz’s attention to Damian, the hero name easily familiar. “Robin?” she asked, voice significantly quieter as she turned to look as another figure dropped in while the first started to pick Damian up after making sure he was safe to move. “Danny, were you…”

Jazz had a lot of questions that Danny didn’t want to answer. But if they stuck around there would be more people with even more questions he couldn’t answer. “We have to go,” Danny cut off, floating down to start ushering Jazz out the door. She protested, but Danny barely heard her. “They’ll take care of the rest. Please. We have to go before-”

He was frantic, not wanting the time limit to run out before someone else who would recognize him showed up. He wasn’t expecting the other time limit to run out.

“Danyal?”

The voice that spoke was barely a whisper of recently regained consciousness, but it caused Danny’s heart to slam into his throat with a harsh gasp. Danny’s old name dragged his attention from his new sister to the one who had spoken it, small frame cradled in another hero’s arms as the rest of them stopped to follow Damian’s gaze.

“...Dami?”

Danny’s response came without him wanting it to. It caused Damian to double his efforts to remain conscious, which in turn exponentially increased Danny’s panic. He shouldn’t be there. So he wouldn’t be there.

“I can’t do this,” Danny gasped with a breath his lungs didn’t have, his hands reaching to rest on his throat before he fled as quickly as he’d arrived.

___________

Jason hadn’t been the first to the site to rescue Damian, but he was the only one who knew what Damian’s frantic babbling was about. Demands for the others to let him go back to the warehouse, refusing treatment even though his ribs had definitely been cracked. He’d only started to behave when Jason got there, firmly holding him on the bed to keep him from making his injuries worse. No one knew what they were talking about when Jason promised to take care of it. No one else knew why vague words of reassurance, and a promise to handle everything was enough to calm Damian down enough to stay still. And no one else was given any more answers as Jason left to return to his apartment after asking Stephanie what she had seen when she’d first arrived at the warehouse.

The presence Jason was starting to get familiar with was behind his apartment door again, as he’d thought Danyal would be. But this time when Jason quietly entered the room instead of sitting quietly near the window Danyal was curled in a tight ball in the corner, sobbing. He also wasn’t see through. Something Jason noted as he silently closed the door and approached Danyal, sitting on the floor across from him.

At first Jason wasn’t sure what to say, and Danyal seemed too distressed to be the first to speak. So instead Jason reached forward to cup his hand under Danyal’s elbow, noting how the lad jerk in mild startle, and how he felt a strangely chilled warmth from him. “C’mere,” Jason coaxed, pulling Danyal towards him gently.

It didn’t take more than that for Danyal to lurch forward, crashing into Jason’s chest and wrapping him in a tight hug. It wasn’t something Jason was used to, but it didn’t stop him from doing his best to comfort the lad, resting his hands on his small back and rubbing gently. “It’s okay. Damian is safe at home now, and police are taking care of the rest,” he tried to assure, trying to guess if that was what had Danyal in such states.

It took several attempts being cut off by sobs and hiccups before Danyal got a response out. “I s’screwed up! S’she w-... wasn’t sup’posed to see. He w’wasn’t supposed to see me.”

Jason wasn’t sure who ‘she’ was, but he guessed Danyal meant Damian for the second person. It was something that had confused him for awhile, why Danyal didn’t want to see Damian, and he couldn’t help asking. “Why did you run from Damian? I thought you got along.”

It was a question Danyal hadn’t had an answer to, even for himself. He’d wondered at first why he’d asked Jason to keep it a secret that he was there, even from Damian. But he’d never been able to answer it. He wasn’t angry with Damian, like Jason had first asked. He didn’t blame Damian for anything that had happened. He didn’t resent Damian at all. But for some reason the thought of seeing his twin brother filled him with dread. He didn’t want Damian to know he had a different family now. Another life, away from him and all they had grown up with. Not because he thought Damian would ruin it, or try to get him to leave it behind, or anything like that. He realized now it was because of an overwhelming feeling of guilt.

“I abandoned him,” Danyal choked out, answering the question for himself as well as Jason. “I left him alone in that shit hole of a family, to be used as a toy, as a weapon just to kill people. We were just kids and I left him all alone.”

The revelation caused Jason’s grip to tighten around Danyal, anger towards Ra’s smoldering brighter in his soul. But this wasn’t about him, so Jason stifled that flame in favor of something that would be of greater use. He could try to tell Danyal that Damian didn’t hate him. That they both apparently felt the same ill begotten guilt, believing that they had somehow failed each other despite having only been children. His own words to the others came back to his mind. 

‘I was just a kid you know.’

They were just kids. They were still just kids. And shouldn’t have to deal with such grief over something that had been caused by adults. Jason knew he could sit there and talk, and try to convince Danyal that he was wrong, and his feelings didn’t have to be what they were. But he also knew there was a much easier way to solve this, and a lot of other tasks.

“...Danyal,” Jason spoke, getting his attention. “Can I ask you to trust me?”

“...W’what?” Danyal asked, his sobs thankfully starting to quiet as Jason piqued his curiosity.

“Will you trust me? And allow me to take you to Damian?” Jason repeated, hoping the hold he had on Danyal was comforting instead of smothering. “Trust me that I know Damian, and know this will help both of you?”

It was somehow a simple request in Danyal’s mind. Trust Jason, the only brother who Damian trusted enough to tell him about his dead twin, to know how to help them. For some reason it was easy for Danyal to turn his brian off, and agree. “...Okay.”

___________

Jason soon learned that Danyal wasn’t a ghost. A comment about finding a hoodie to hide his white hair for the trip led to Danyal revealing that he could easily switch forms between human and spirit. A ring of light briefly passing over his form, and Danyal had black hair, regular green eyes, and completely lost that intimidating presence. Now he was just another regular boy. And he looked exactly like Damian.

He still asked for the hoodie.

The trip back to the Wayne manor was quick, and silent on Jason’s motorcycle, the spare helmet shoved over Danyal’s head. He seemed reluctant to take it off when they stopped, and Jason couldn’t blame him. He seemed very keen on not being recognized.

“Don’t worry. Not even media cameras make it here. Bruce likes his privacy,” Jason assured, resting a hand on Danyal’s back in what he hoped was reassurance even as the kid pulled the hood lower.

Unfortunately because of the recent circumstances the manor wasn’t empty. But Jason ignored the others with short quips when they got nosy. It was only Alfred, the one who always looked after them when hurt, and who was just leaving Damian’s room, that they stopped for.

“Welcome home, Master Jason,” Alfred’s usual greeting was the first words exchanged. “Might I ask who our guest is?”

Alfred didn’t sound like Danyal was unwanted, but he didn’t miss the protective tone subtly in his voice.

“A visitor for Damian,”Jason responded simply. A half answer. It would take too long to explain, and they weren’t there for the others.

“Are you sure this is the best time for visitation?” Alfred asked, knowing that Jason was well aware of Damian’s current health status.

“Trust me. They both need this,” Jason confirmed, his hand never leaving Danyal’s back even as he kept his head low and face away from curious eyes.

“Very well,” Alfred relented after a small pause, stepping aside and gesturing for them to pass.

Jason thanked Alfred, and took charge of firmly leading Danyal through the open door. He could feel Danyal’s body tensing with rattled nerves, and didn’t want him to suffer in second guessing any longer than necessary. So when Bruce turned to look at them from the bedside where Damian was refusing to fully rest, Jason took care of introducing their arrival. “Couple of dead boys, here to visit.”

It was certainly unexpected, but while Bruce’s expression scrunched in confusion Damian stubbornly sat up and a tiny snort escaped Danyal. The humor was almost out of place, but appreciated, and Danyal allowed Jason to move him forward a little before taking the hood from his hands.

Letting the fabric that was hiding his face slip from his fingers, Danyal lowered his hands to replace it with the front of the hoodie instead, giving a shaky, nerve wracked smile as he clenched the oversized hoodie. “... Hey, Dami.”

The greeting was easier than Danyal thought it would be, and he didn’t have to wait long for Damian’s response. Despite the protest of his battered body, Damian ignored all the rules he’d been given to stay in bed in favor of launching himself towards his twin. “Danyal!”

Danyal’s breath left him in a slight huff as a figure the same as his own slammed into him, arms being thrown around him without any hint of hesitation. As Damian babbled broken chatter, Danyal found he couldn’t fully focus on what he was saying. Just the familiar voice from half a lifetime ago, slightly different with just a bit of age, echoing in his ears. It was easy to return the hug, Danyal’s hands remaining gentle in consideration of Damian’s ribs, yet also squeezing as tight as he dared. Fresh tears caused his throat to tighten once more, but this time he didn’t mind. Even the brand new voice behind him did little to deter his desire to stay right where he was.

“Holy shit! You have a twin!”

“Shut up, Tim. You’re ruining it.”

______________________________________

Friggen huge post but I'm not planning on making this an extended fic so just splatted it all out in 1 post X'D

The first part of this is what that design of Danyal I did was for. And a day of brain fog and just the right kind of positive motivation got me to actually do this.

I feel really out of my element because I only know the DC group from Wayne Family Adventures, and a few fan content things my sis reblogs |D I hope they're not too out of character.

[sad-leon]

@intotheelliwoods free therapy time again :D

I am quickly running out of hug poses for these two but they still bring me so much joy to draw <3

im so incredibly normal about them

[starrspice]

Some things never change

[harbingersglory]

Thoughts on transfem Ningguang with a fem!reader whose her bodyguard? Fem!reader whose like a loyal, protective dog out in the world when they're out and about together, but an utter submissive puppy behind closed doors for the Tianquan?

literally shaking like a chihuahua oh what i'd do to be the Tianquan's lap dog..mean femmes are so attractive its like putting my brain in a blender.

It's not surprising the Tianquan has a bodyguard. She's a key political figure in Liyue and anyone aiming to dismantle the carefully curated hierarchy has her at the top of the list. To the public, your just muscle to intimidate the lesser crooks from even thinking about it and deal with those who get too bold.

Behind closed doors, though? Your nothing but the Tianquan's lap dog at her beck and call.

She isn't fond of public displays, but she does like hiding it in public just for the thrill. Knowing you wear your collar under your uniform so you'll always remember who holds your leash is a thrill she can't beat.

She's a bit mean and sadistic, really, but she's the Tianquan. She has the money to spoil you like a good puppy afterwards..so long as you behave and exceed expectations. Whether you lean more dominant or submissive doesn't matter, since you'll probably be subbing whether your top or bottom. It's a different kind of thrill to make you sit on her lap, stuffed full of her cock, while she works. That or she has you under her desk, one hand fisted in your hair while she uses your mouth instead.

She has to be at the top of her game, after all, and her position is a stressful one. What better way to de-stress then to put her little puppy to good use? You're just so pliant when she orders you on your knees.

She keeps it tame if thats more your thing, but if you give her the go ahead she will buy you muzzles. Some just the standard muzzle, others with gags, plenty of collars and leashes for all sorts of occasions..she might even get you faux ears and a tail just for a little finishing touch.

She's just as big on aftercare, though. She puts her money to good use spoiling you, partially because she knows she can get a little rough with you. That and as much as she likes to call you her puppy, she won't have you smelling like a wet dog. Get in the bath.

You won't stay clean for long, especially because she absolutely goes all out on her tub so it's more then big enough for some extra activities, but it's better then nothing.

Sometimes, though, she just needs to be pampered herself. She adores body worship after a particularly stressful day. Just lounging in half tied silk while you worship every inch of her.

And if anyone notices you limping the morning after..they say nothing. They just chalk it up to a fight with some assassin or similar. And if they do know, they know better then to bring it up.

Bonus for being shared with Beidou when she drops by Liyue harbor. Nothing like a rowdy pirate to shake things up and make a mess of you on the Tianquan's bed while she watches.

[galaxgay]

🕯 🕯 🕯

🕯 🕯

🕯 "Do it Again" in S3 🕯

🕯 🕯

🕯 🕯 🕯

[jeena-says-hi]

When “the sillies” are 2 dead gay old French men

[daemon-in-my-head]

Durgetash(?) asks - I'm slowly running out of coherent titles edition

But back to serious business. Well as serious as my asks are anyway.

What's Durges creation myth? Not the 'and then there was a gore baby'. Give me the details, what did Bhaal actually do for Durge to torment Toril in a few years?

Did Bhaal always plan for Durge to just eradicate all life or did he originally have a different plan before his death and revival? What exactly did the lord of murder have in mind when creating that particular spawn?

Was kid Durge a usual child before the Urge awakened or were there some signs indicating smth was off about the kid? How did the environment react to them?

Did Durge steal anything for themselves during the heist, or did they only took the crown?

What did pre tadpole Durge think of Jergal? Was that mindset in any way influenced by Bhaal?

Orin is pretty young. At which point did Durge introduce their lovely sister to their new tyrannical acquaintance and how much of a shitshow was it?

What were Durges and Gortash's first words towards each other? (Be as vague as u want)

What were their last words towards each other? And who really got the final say? (Same as prev, be as vague as you'd like)

Durges opinion on the nine hells and the archdevils ruling them. Also is Gortash aware of their honest opinion or did they not bother disclosing that?

The most fucked up thing they did together. The absolute plot, mephista or hall of wonders heist doesn't count.

What portfolio would they have claimed if they ever got to ascend? Would they simply usurp the current dead three or ascend and claim an unrelated portfolio of their own? What's going on there?

What did the promise of death at Durges hands mean to Gortash?

Ask prev when u reblog, be nice, this isn't strictly romantic, bla bla bla yk what I usually put here. Basically, have fun, go wild, save a fading fandom or smth

[webs4ribs]

Losing my MIND at Sam’s personality section on the TMAGP wiki

[rowanisawriter]

writing fic is like exorcism. Tbh

[moongothic]

(Frankenstein'd two asks together for the sake of previty)

I've been pretty torn between answering this ask and just doing a deep dive re-analysis post about Marineford as a whole (from Crocodile's perspective) because I feel like rereading it now as a Crocodad Truther, I could probably make a whole lot of new observations and/or read into things differently than I did last time I read it (when I was rereading for the purpose of studying the viability of Crocodad) Like there's so much to say about the whole arc and I'd include this line of thought in there anyways... But also, do I really feel like writing a giant essay like that........

I am going to start this by refering to this mini-essay I wrote like a month ago, about how Crocodile seems to have this attitude of "no crying over spilt milk". What's happened has happened, what's done is done, it's your own fault things turned out the way they did, there's no undoing any of it and you just have to continue on. And I do think that attitude would be key here to understanding Crocodile's actions in Marineford re:Crocodad

(Sidenote because this is not relevant to the rest of the post, but the reason this is about Crocodad and not CrocoUncle etc is because if Crocodile was only loosely related to Luffy it would not have the same kind of impact emotionally (for Crocodile; like there is a difference between a nephew and a son). Additionally a part of Crocodad is that it ties into Crocodile's connection with Ivankov in a really important way. If Crocodile was only loosely related to Luffy, him also being trans would kind of be like a random sidenote without being relevant to the two being family, but suddenly if Crocodile is Luffy's other biological parent, him being trans matters a lot more. Also if he's not Luffy's other dad then we'd be still stuck asking who the fuck birthed Luffy to begin with)

While Sengoku's announcement here would make for a horrific revelation to Crocodile in this situation (a revelation we never see his immidiate reaction to, which continues to be deeply sus), what would it change, really?

The little idiot child who Crocodile had attempted to murder multiple times was his own son. Sure, he might've insantly lost whatever grudge he might've held against Luffy, then what? That feeling would be one-sided, because at this point in the story Luffy hated Crocodile's guts and he knew that too. Luffy has no idea about them being related, and even if Crocodile literally walked up the kid right that second and told him the truth, what would it change? He'd still be the man who nearly nuked a million people off the face of the earth, took over a country and killed Luffy and his friends while laughing about it. Being Luffy's other dad wouldn't make him any less of a horrible asshole (if anything it might make it slightly worse 'cause you get to add shit like "child abandonment" onto his list of crimes).

Luffy came to Marineford to save Ace. Crocodile came to Marineford to kill Whitebeard. He had no reason to interfere with Luffy's quest, and with the help Luffy already was recieving from the prison escapees, the Newkama and the Whitebeard Pirates, what would Crocodile's assistance add to the mix? Would Luffy even welcome him in helping save his brother?

Luffy had his own life, a life Crocodile had not been a part of. He had no right to try to insert himself into it at this point, after all he had done to Luffy. There's no crying over spilled milk. What's done is done, you just have to move on. He should just focus on what he came to do; get his revenge and take Whitebeard's head, as planned.

Deep breaths

...Only to realize that Whitebeard is a dying old man and not worth even killing anymore, because he's not the same Primebeard whom once beat Crocodile and crushed all his dreams. Defeating Whitebeard would not give him the catharsis he came for.

And at that point, the fuck was Crocodile going to do? The revenge he wants isn't there anymore 'cause it went bad a few decades ago. And between the raging war and Doflamingo on his ass it's not like he could just sneak out without anybody noticing. He doesn't have allies (aside from Daz under him) to worry about. He only has his hatred to the World Government.

At that point, he might as well be a nuisance to the Government and assist Luffy. Even if the help wasn't welcomed, even if Luffy hated him and regardless if he knew the truth or not, helping Luffy right then and there would still be better than letting the Government have their way and kill his son right in front of him

[makenna-made-this]

*narrator voice* More like Brooder's Gate 3, amirite???

[thatweirdfetish]

In the short time I didn't have tiktok, I couldn't silence the invasive thoughts with thirst traps of buff women and Emmrich enthusiasts. Instead I opted to write scenes, things that make me think of Emmrich, and a collective of things that I can physically hear him say.

"I'll envy even the dirt that wraps up your body, my dear." dunno where I heard it but it's got Em all over it.

"Whether you come as a lover or an executioner, I am ready to receive you.” for specifically Lich!Emmrich

"Have you heard of the lovelorn wanderer? The woman that dug in the dirt for her not so lover?" lover girl is literally haunting the grounds Emmrich died at, no matter how he passed she still digs

"Rook darling, why can't you get it? I have had my beginning and I know how this ends, the middle is where you were found. The ever encapsulating unknown of the in between, it's beautiful but so horrifically short."

"Darling, how this almost ruined me- To be a man that lives in the darkness would have been better than to be the man that life found, the man on his knees who prayed for your return is worse off than the man who never knew its grace. (Solas)He spoke of fairness in a game that we should not play. The only equality to be seen is the one where you walked away. Love wants to be as simple as breathing, but it came as swift as the waves recede. Love does not care for the speed nor for the height of which the waves have grown; it only knows destruction or how it will swallow you whole." my brain went a lil wild after he said 'darling I thought I'd lost you forever' in such a sad voice

'Silence had never felt so heavy as when he looked up at me, cradling the limp stature of his ward. Our son, "We must go to the Necropolis.." he strained out, veilfire dancing in the collective tears we both were attempting to will away. "ahem- Of course, would you like me t-" The crunch of dirt scattering under his boot cut her short as he lifts Manfred wordlessly. The soft tremor of his shoulders breaking the thinly veiled composure he clings to as he strided forward. Neve's hand on my shoulder is the only thing helping to maintain my own.'

And now a little scene between my Rook's mother and her ever patient baby daddy.

"One of us has to consider my morality!" she watched as his grey hair slowly fell out of place, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he spoke despite his measured tone, the desperate dedication filling his eyes as he looked upon her. "Emmrich please, I know the risks at hand here-" "At your age?" he cuts in, her eyes quick to snap up to his narrowing.

Hands clenched on reflex as she inhales deeply. "That's not fair and you know it" she whispered before returning her gaze to him with an almost unbearable softness. "Yes, at my age. I'm not some naive dalen roaming the Arlathan wilds, nor am I some spry junior attending your lectures. You have six, say it with me, SIX years on me at most. Our children are nearly half our age. And it would do you well to remember that,"

She watched as his posture snapped straight, confusion clouding up his expression as his eyes bounced across her features expectantly. Her eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "What?" She asks, anxiety nipping at her tongue.

"Children- you said CHILDREN, plural.." he spoke slowly, carefully. Almost playing with the way the words flowed from his mouth.

"Yes I di-" it was her turn to still now, eyes quickly dropped to the floor.

Fuck, she hadn't told him about Emiliana yet.

He took a tentative step forward, gold clinking as he raised his arm to quietly sit in the space between. "Hyacinth- No, Cin darling look at me. Please" he begged, attempting to coax her. But she didn't stir, eyes remained transfixed to the floor out of guilt or desperation he couldn't be sure. So he did what he thought was best and attempted to speak one more time, only to fall silent at the shake of her shoulders as her voice rang out once again.

“Emiliana," she muttered out, "our daughter's name is Emiliana. She's wonderful, so intelligent and diligent. I doubt even a Pride demon could have pried her out of the Skyhold library,” a sad chuckles slipped from her lips as her hand came up to mindlessly thumb at her necklace.

-which is an intricate Locket he's realizing upon closer inspection.

“She's not very adept at magic much to her frustration, I fear it may be the only thing she inherited from me beyond the freckles. She'll be damned if that stops her though," a deep sigh filled the gap as Cin rose her head once more. Tears streaked across her face, but her eyes burned with such loving familiarity it nearly sent him reeling.

“You should see how she flourishes when she is in the thick of her alchemist studies, I'd dare to say her love of botany could put yours to shame with the course she's on at present.” His eyes are wide, careful to note every word, every loving detail she's sharing so rapidly despite the heavy reluctance her voice strained through. The pride he can't help but to bask in with her at every new revelation, and the pain of lost experiences he'll never share.

A small, almost imperceivable smile twitched at the corner of her lips as she wiped away a stray tear.

“She's grown to be so much like you, it nearly had me bent to the knee in mourning at what was taken from you all unknowingly when I ran away with them..”

The crackling of the fireplace and the click of heels against stone echoed against the oppressive silence as he approached her once again. Hands delicate as one came to softly grasp at her twitching hand to remove it from the locket momentarily, while his gloved one patiently cradles her cheek.

“May I?” he asks, voice soft but not demanding as his thumb traces small circles along her face in attempts to help clear up her gathered tears.

Swallowing thickly, she nods ever so slightly. The anxiety, the grief, the anticipation all of it fell to her feet as she watched him.

Still she was eager to drink in the subtle aging of his features with such close proximity, the once shapely cheekbones that's sharpened with the march of time. The ever encapsulating creases of his laugh lines that deepened, and the new ones that formed at the corner of his eyes. That one early onset grey streak that seamlessly bled out and took over the rest of his thick locks save for a long thicket that remains just as pitch black against his widowspeak.

Her eyes flick towards his hand as it gingerly prys open her locket while she notes the slight crinkles of his skin at his knuckles, the greenish hue of the veins under his alabaster skin creeping out from the clicking bracelets in a quiet act of defiance. Even the small dusting of age spots that gather on the top of his hands she's happy to drink up in an attempt to steady herself.

His sharp intake of breath quickly throws her out of it again though as the anxiety coils back through her like a vice grip. His hand slipped from her cheek once more, careful to cradle the locket between both palms that now laid fully unfolded in his grasp.

The tears the fell from his eyes causing her to harshly bite down on her tongue, quick to silence any of her own sobs.

His eyes quickly darted across the golden pendant savoring the images. The first one held the likeness of a child with some of the messiest curls he'd ever seen and a mischievous grin shy of a front tooth. “Rook– no, Edwin..” he spoke with quiet amusement as his thumb gingerly ran along the frame before moving to the next.

There sat the three of them, Edwin barely a hair bigger happily curled into his mother with a hand placed ever so softly on a bundle with pitch black tuffs of hair poking out, he sighed, one that rattled deep from within his chest. “Emiliana?” he questioned, as his thumb lightly grazed the picture while he turned his gaze to Cin.

The metallic taste of blood pooled on her tongue as she nodded wordlessly. Eyelashes heavy with unshed tears as she watched him return to the photo, a somber smile pulling at his lips as he turned to the last one.

He laughed, a genuine deep laugh at the third image. It was of them in their youth standing side by side, covered head to foot in soot and grime. Cin’s wild grin as she eagerly clung to Emmrich's arm, wearing his own coy smile.

“Of all the photos, of all excursions, you pick the messiest one to commit to gold?” he questions, his voice light with mock offense despite the tears that glide down his face. At this she broke, the hideous sound of her sob filled the room at his tender tone.

She sinks in of herself, clutching at her chest tightly in a vain attempt to sooth the violence of her shuddering breaths. Her voice cracking and she speaks,

“Don't just smile at me like that Emmrich, I- I don't deserve it, please” her nails bite into her skin as she clawed at her arm. “Look at what my fear, my selfish fear TOOK from you. I couldn't even, I didn't-”

Her eyes were blown wide with fear and regret, words beginning and dying on her tongue as she grasped roughly at the root her hair pushing it from her face as she laughed.

“I got pregnant not once, but TWICE and ran from you both times. I didn't even give you the courtesy of knowing it happened, I had every opportunity to after Edwin. You were there, right there in front of me at that banquet. We even went off to the gardens to be alone it was the perfect time, it was right fucking there- and then you kissed me and it's like I forgot about everything I was supposed to say and then we-” she paused closing her eyes taking a deep breath and continued, anxiously pacing.

“And then Emiliana came to my attention on that boat on my way from Navarre to Val Royeaux and I just.. How could I just send a letter..? You were rising so high in the order, your reputation was worth it's weight in gold, you were SOMEBODY and I was just- I didn't want to ruin what you'd been working your whole life for, how could I dare to-” she releases her hair, aggressively wiping her tears along her sleeve as she mutter on.

“We were so careful yet still twice it happened, twice. I'll never regret them, and never have but I couldn't drag you down with me. You had so much potential, THEY have so much potential, but I was just a glorified body guard who was apparently trying to move up the ranks by ‘attempting to seduce you’ to our peers.” She stops her ministrations long enough to finally look at him, the quiet recognition of her words lingering in his eyes.

“Cin, you know I'd never believe the humor of such hearsay,” he whispered.

“It wasn't just about you, or me at that point though. I had bigger concerns, and we both know how nobles respond to such cases. Lead alone the senior watchers at the time, even with the low birth status your abilities made you a high value bachelor for better or worse. If word got out about well,” she gestures vaguely to herself. “Do you truly think they'd just let me be? Lead alone Edwin? It would of been a miracle if they let me keep him, especially when he started showing signs of his affinity for corpse whispering so young..” sighing, she turns and sits down at the foot of the steps. Pressing her forehead into her palms.

“I regret not telling you truly, I have for twenty-eight years, Emmrich. While I stand by the decision that led me to leave, I won't forgive the means I had to take to do it. And you being so ready to receive me despite it, let alone smile at me? I don't deserve it, I just don't.”

With a soft breath he strolls beside her, quick to take a seat next to her as he stares at his desk mindlessly twirling the ring on his thumb.

“You know, I once thought about getting married and settling down. It was after you left of course, but not too long after that banquet if I'm being brutally honest. I threw myself into a new whirlwind romance, and convinced myself this was it. This is that one,” She lifted her head slightly to peer over at him, “Seriously?” she questioned.

“Oh absolutely, barely a month in and I was ready to look at jewelry. I was deluding myself off course, but you know how easily I resign myself to my whims, dearest.” he mused, earning a soft snort from beside him.

“Yes, believe me I remember the desire demon incident very clearly..” she muttered, a soft smile tugging at her features.

“Exactly! Well to what I'm sure will come to you as an utter shock, she was only looking for a temporary connection that summer. She was, and I am quoting her here, ‘up to her ears with art she needed to appraise and didn't have the time.’ A lovely woman despite it, we still exchange letters on certain Navarre paintings that cross her path once a blue moon.” he turned towards her with a coy smile.

“My point however is you truly never know what fate will pull towards or away from you, the only certainty for a lack of better wording is the inevitability of death and all that comes with it. We've both lived enough life to acknowledge that much, and I'm sorry for my lack of poor phrasing earlier.” his body naturally gravitating towards her as he spoke.

“You shouldn't be apologizing for anything, given my childish behavior up to present time I think I should be the one on their knees groveling.” she mused, a familiar teasing edge slipping into her tone.

“While my memory savours the time you spent down on your knees for me darling, I am regretful to be the voice of reason and say this may not be the best time.” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he glances between her eyes and lips slowly.

To say the breath escaped her lungs would be an understatement, as she stared up at him wide eyed entranced by his hazed over gaze.

A sly grin is what he's met with as she regains her senses, “Since when have you cared about reasonable times and places? Or am I remembering our time pressed against the ‘Love in Life and Death’ statue incorrectly?” her hand comes to cup his cheek tentatively, eyes scanning his for any hesitation or reluctance.

Here she finds only a longing smile and a warm hand pressed against hers as he draws her closer.

“I wouldn't dare, be certain the true event was even more remarkable than your memory allows,” he pauses momentarily to bring his face just shy of her lips as he stares her down diligently. “I would however be so bold as to say that whatever you've committed to memory I can readily assure the present reality would surpass even your most vivid recollections.”

Her hand trailed down his neck slowly to his collar pin, undoing it with an ease that can only be chalked to muscle memory as her nose nudged his.

“Such pretty words for such a vulgar sentime-” she began but the creak of the door opening snapped them both away from one another just as quickly as they were drawn in.

“Hey mom you'll never guess who came through the-” Edwin stared at the scene before him with a brief flash of confusion then mortification at the way they looked away from each other. Emmrich's crossed legs and his mother's fidgeting of her hair only sinking the horror deeper.

“Makers tits, nope- NOPE.” Quickly he turned on his heel to yell over the banister, “ILIY, NEXT TIME YOU'RE GOING THROUGH THE DOOR FIRST I REFUSE TO LET THEM RUIN SEX FOR ME”

Following a sign from Hyacinth, a loud snort and hiss echoed from the ground floor that caused Emmrich head to rapidly whip towards.

“Truly you never change do you, Eds?” a unfamiliar voice spoke much to Emmrich's delight and Hyacinth elation as they both bolt upright out the door. There by a very interested Manfred stood what Emmrich could only describe for a lack of a better wording to be, a hyper feminine version of himself poised comfortable on the landing.

[shaadowmilkcookie]

I love ur oc

OIJSNFKDL;ALKFJNG'DKNJLHG????????????????????????????????????????? OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY GOD OH MY GOD HELLOOOOO PRETTTY LITTLE BLUE PRINCE HWO I HATE. SO DEARLY. SO MUHC. right in my inbox... oh my gawd.. oHHH MY GAWD u draw him so nice it makes me MAD bc he does not DESERVE this. 5 billion nukes to his location!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!