#did i go overboard? maybe...
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My drawing gremlin days are coming back so here is some of the art I’ve done this last week and a half♥️♥️♥️ LOT of pencil, ballpoint pen, and some digital art WIPs when it gets dark/im on the train🫶







#no more room to post the rest of what I did😆😆 I’m way more active on insta/tiktok these days tbh#my main fandoms are actually twin peaks x files and pride and prejudice😆😆😆#and I have this book called La pintura en el barroco where I am doing this challenge#to draw every painting it has with ballpoint pen…I work on it before the sun sets🥹#this is why I haven’t had so much fanart/writing these days🥲 BUT I’m finishing up my next oneshot finally😍🤞#it might be too sweet and fluffy even for me though like maybe I’m going overboard lol#well here is my little art update🫶🫶🫶 maybe I’ll post my normal art here more often#traditional art#artists on tumblr#twin peaks#David lynch#dale cooper#ballpointpen#Romeo and Juliet#the bear#fanart#oh and one of these is a redraw of a scene from my fic that still makes me laugh a lot♥️♥️♥️
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I have been so cooked for this man lately that I need to talk about him— I genuinely think that with a ADHD/autism/AuDHD partner Ford takes notes on your stims and quirks, even before any serious relationship. Just little things like “waves hands when excited :)” and “prefers baggy sweaters” just like a little way of understanding you better 🥺💖
yesss definitely! as an AuDHDer who stims a lot myself, this is everything!! jfskhfshsk
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"Aaaahhhhh oh myy-" the rest of what you were saying was incomprehensible because the words slurred together in an excited squeal. A gleeful expression upon your face, you waved and shook your hands in front of your body, then pressed them over your mouth, to stifle another squeal.
Ford smiled to himself as he watched you from the other side of the room, where he propped his notebook open to scribble something down.
"Heeyyyyy Grunkle Ford, watcha got there?" Mabel's voice rang out right beside him.
He snapped the book shut and whipped his head around.
"Mabel!"
"Waves hands when excited." she cited what she had just read, "Were you talking about-"
"No, I was certainly not!" Ford said, while his cheeks started to turn a deep red colour.
"Are you suuuure? Because to me it looks like you diiiid." she said, a cheeky grin on her face and dragging some of the vowels.
"You are mistaken, dear child. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." he excused himself and stood up, holding the notebook close to him.
Without letting her get another word in, he moved past her and made his way into his study.
There, he propped open the notebook to the page he'd just added a new note onto.
- likes to hum when no one is around - seems to prefer more loose fitting clothes. possibly because the don't restrict movement as much - will subconsciously play and fidget with any jewellery they're wearing - sorts and eats their food in a particular order - would rather not eat at all than something not appealing - skin irritating clothing causes great discomfort. remove tags!! - wants to talk but holds back. encouraging them has positive effect - avoids eye contact but will look at faces when the person isn't looking at them - do not touch without warning and do not force contact! expressed great discomfort to me after being forced to physical contact by someone else - repeating phrases and noises (quite endearing) - easily startled by sudden and loud noises, as well as irritated by high pitched ones, almost too quiet to hear - shows behaviours similar to felines. has stated that they would be delighted to posses the ability to purr (he would be delighted too)
Ford smiled as he looked up and leaned back. He really hoped Mabel hadn't seen too much, otherwise she might figure out how interested in you he really was. And we wasn't sure if he was ready for that.
For now he would be very much content continuing to dreamily gaze over at you and notice all the little things, so he could understand you better.
Maybe one day he could work up the courage to ask you out.
-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated
#i'm sorry if this is too ooc - i haven't read journal 3 or tbob#his notes are in no particular order#he didn't necessarily notice or wrote them down in this order#is it unconsciously or subconsciously? english isn't my first language so please pardon any mistakes#did anyone ever knew about the word 'interlocutor'? because this is the first time i'm seeing it#asks#anon ask#requests#stanford pines#ford pines#stanford pines x reader#stanford x reader#ford pines x reader#gravity falls#gf#my writing#stimming#stims#adhd#autism#audhd#actually autistic#maybe i went a bit overboard... anyywaayyy#not proofread#it's late#i need to go to sleep but i wanted to post smth today#requested
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this is a scene from @msmargarita ‘s fic “Bad Pennies”
it was so silly i HAD to make an animatic out of it
#junkrat#ovw2#overwatch#artists on tumblr#animation#animatic#storyboard#oc#original character#roadhog#jamison fawkes#ovw#fanfic#junkrat x reader#x reader#hes technically wearing the king jamison skin but i didnt have time to draw the deets lol#i also never imagine reader fics as myself i just make up character designs for them idk its more fun for me that way haha#did i go a little overboard? maybe#did i have fun? yes#and thats whats important#cringe culture is DEAD#EMBRACE HAVING FUN#AND CREATING SELF INDULGENT SHIT#ty to msmargarita for this fic im having a lot of fun reading it
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I was wondering if you could write headcanons for the Bone Boys as dads. ( you can pick one or multiple) (ie. Seeley, Jack, Lance, Zack, or any of the squinterns) I loved your hodgins fic sm <3 take your time!!! Thank you!!!
Oh, I love you for asking this 💕Any opportunity to write for my Jeffersonian family. And my squinterns? You didn't have to ask twice. If anyone want a part 2 let me know. I didn’t include a bunch of squints or my boy Aubrey
Seeley - over protective, caring, goofy, stern, willing to do whatever he needs to to make his kid happy. I mean, just look at Parker - that kid turned out so well adjusted and happy. Booth just loves him to pieces - and Christine? Apple of his eye. Any kid this man has will want for nothing and know nothing but pure unrelenting love. Sunday afternoons of throwing a baseball around - I don't care what gender, any child of Booth will know how to throw a curve ball. And the hockey games? Oh, the kid(s) will be wearing Flyers jerseys before they can walk.
Lance - we were robbed. Robbed of seeing this beautiful man raising a child. Sweets would be such a good dad too. Caring, affectionate, understanding, patient, hilarious, and with one disappointed look have his kids in line apologizing.
Oh, I could just imagine the first few weeks of sleepless nights. Lance, being so excited, but also so terrified of messing up. He knows what its like to have shitty people looking after you, and he'd never want to be that way. But he also knows what it's like to have two loving (amazing) people take care of him and love him with unconditional love.
This of course, would cause him to take the brunt of the middle of the night feedings/check-ins. Lance, sitting in a rocking chair, softly singing Coconut by Harry Nilsson. It's no surprise when the kid knows all the words before they know the alphabet fully.
Just, ugh, nothing but love and laughter.
Any child of Jack's will be showered with affection, over the top gifts (what do you mean a thousand dollar playhouse is too much? It has a fully functional kitchen and a mini lab!), and a love and appreciation for all the beautiful things around them (bugs and all).
"Whose my little prince/princess of the lab?"
Jack would realize his mistake during the preteen phase. "Honestly, I don't know where the sarcasm is coming from. They're too quick for their own good." This of course, would be met with eye rolls, and really? No DNA test needed here. King of the Lab? More like King of Sass.
Jack would love to take the kid(s) to the lab. "This is a Carabidae, they belong to the Adephaga." He'd love to see their little faces light up with wonder. He'd never feel more elated then hearing the little giggles when he puts the beetle into his kids tiny waiting hand.
Wendell would be the sweetest most down to Earth dad. No child of Wendell's would ever know what it means to struggle - not if he had anything to say about it. That doesn't mean his kids wouldn't know the meaning of hard work - that's the one thing Wendell prides himself in. Working hard and knowing you deserved to be there.
Considering his own mother induced labor on a roller coaster, I'm sure Wendell would be there for unconventional methods. His kids would also know how to defend themselves - verbal and physically (No one would ever talk down to his kids and get away with it. And boxers fracture? His kids would know how to throw a punch and mean it - "only if they deserve it, you can't just go around just starting fights with anybody."
His favorite memory would be the first time he took his kid(s) onto the rink. Seeing them persevere and keep going until they got the hang of it - "That's right, you got it!"
Wendell would raise his kids to be prepared for absolutely anything. Car broke down? They would know how to fix the engine. Someone broke their heart? Cry, feel it all, then take a deep breath and keep going. Because no matter what - he'll always be there to back them up.
Vincent would be a dotting dad. A little over the top, but that's why his kids would love him. Any child of Vincent's would know more random facts than any other five year old. The calls from the kindergarten teacher would always be...interesting. "Yes, yes, I can see why talking about the amount of insect legs found in chocolate would be upsetting to the other children."
That of course would not and could not stop him from prattling out more facts every night. Facts were his love language - his bonding time. Every night, without fail, he'd tuck his little one into bed, rambling about any random thought that popped into his head until his child fell asleep.
Colin, sweet morbid hopeless Colin. Would have no idea what to do with a child until one evening when he hasn't sleep for four days straight - he can barely see, his mind and body more fuzzy than normal.
He's looking hopelessly at his baby in his arms, "What? what do you need from me?" His voice growing more weary and desperate. Until he see's it, a smile - then a small gurgle that could be mistaken for laughter. "Oh, you like that, huh, my misery?" He's welcomed by another gurgle and big beautiful eyes blinking slowly back at him. He feels it then - the warmth- the happiness creeping up in his bones. He's got a shot now - at something he never thought about before.
Oh, his kid wants to paint his nails? Sure, he's always got the time, and maybe some tips, a little sloppy on the corner there. It's okay- you're only six we'll get you there, kid.
Colin would be the type of dad to always complain about being dragged to something, but he would secretly love it. Sappy teen movie playing in the background? No, he's not interested. He's just going to stand here for 30 minutes eyes glued to the screen. No, he doesn't want to sit down. Wait- rewind - what are they arguing about? He missed it.
Colin would have a little mini me - both the complete opposite of him and so similar it was scary. His little partner in crime.
Zack would like to think he knows exactly what he's doing but he has no idea. He buys every parenting book known to man. Spends hours of research looking up different child development theories.
No, the baby did not in fact laugh. It's only been a month, a baby can't laugh until at least 5 months. He states that firmly until the next few days when Zack swears up and down he made the baby laugh doing an impression of Hodgins. I know I said that, but perhaps the baby just has my intelligence and early development.
Zack will be there front row and center for every recital, game, or event. Doesn't matter if he has no idea what the rules are or what is going on. He'll be there cheering from the side lines.
His favorite afternoon snack to make? Macaroni and cheese.
Zack is just happy to have made his family a little bit bigger. He never thought he'd be proud of anything outside of the Jeffersonian, but he was happily proven wrong everyday.
#did i go overboard? maybe but I have no regrets#bonestv#bones tv show imagine#bonestv imagine#seeley booth#zack addy#lance sweets#jack hodgins#colin fisher#wendell bray#vincent nigel murray
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@campdigimonth
I honestly wasn't planning to draw this but I randomly found this adorable screenshot in my gallery and just had to draw it. Gammamon is such a cutie!
#digimonredraw2025#digimon#digimon ghost game#gammamon#hiro amanokawa#my art#nillisaie draws#I'm honestly a little bummed I got Gammamon's proportions a bit off but also I started this yesterday#I think this drawing looks incredible for it having been done in less than 24 hours. I am so proud of myself. I did good!!#I'm also a little bummed I messed up the little colorful lights placement. I thought I was going overboard but I don't think I actually was#I could have added MORE colorful lights!! Oh well. Maybe next time
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Can I request a pokemon drawing? Was thinking mewtwo but idk whoever whatever!
Day 11 - Quiet pls
#My art#Requestober#Pokemon#Whismur#MewTwo#I'm pulling out my excuse from a couple years ago - I may have gone overboard but in my defense I really wanted to#Lol#Of course I had to!!! My beloveds!!!!!#Whismur's been on my mind again lately - thinking again of the little doodle of me holding one among others things haha#And I mean if you're going to specify MewTwo who am I to say no <3#So both! Both burple babies! Although Whismur is classified as pink?? Mm???#They're more purple than MewTwo arguably??? He's more grey due to the alien influence - that scrembaby is purple#I really wanted to lean a bit more into MewTwo's catlike traits and have him nosing around lol#Sniff sniff what are you identify yourself#Couldn't swing the posing >:P He's too dignified to lie down completely but how do support himself on those legs!#If not for his tail he'd definitely fall on his face haha#Well I might try again another time - and it's not like I'm DisPleased with how it turned out!#I didn't re-line Everything but I did a lot of it........I actually like lining a lot now........it's fun lol#His little body expression differences were very fun haha especially his tail - an agitated thump in the last one!#MewTwo dearest you're very intimidating to the little speaker just turn down the glare#Being screamed at doesn't help the glower lol#Poor little Whismur haha just not used to MewTwo yet! He's fairly friendly to most Pokemon...now#He'll still probably just make a clone and leave the original be at this point lol#As least that one won't cry at the sight of him! Probably! Maybe! Haha <3
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Aeron getting knighted post-War for the Stepstones
#my art#oc: aeron waters#house of the dragon#hotd#house of the dragon oc#hotd oc#fyeahhotdocs#fire and blood#f&b#did i go overboard with the langward sigil a little bit? maybe
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@viciousrocket ♡'d for a starter
Of all things, his flight arriving early was the last thing Oliver anticipated. What a catastrophe! There were a few hours before he was meant to meet up with his brothers at the cafe. Now what was he supposed to do? Being forced to wait a few minutes for them to show would have been torture enough. how was he supposed to occupy his time for a few hours?!
Impatiently. He wouldn't. That's how.
Believing he recalled which bases his brothers were stationed in, Oliver decided he would go to them instead of attempting to entertain himself alone. At least it would certainly prove fun to try. Finding the base was easy, he'd left there countless times when he was young . . . albeit he was always accompanied, so getting in could prove to be a challenge.
Finally, an idea came to mind as he popped a lollipop into his mouth, the fifth or the sixth of the day, he would wait. Someone had to come out of the building eventually, right? Right. So, standing out light a brightly colored sore thumb, Oliver posted himself up beneath a tree nearby the base's entrance and waited. Who knows, maybe he'd even get lucky enough to spot one of his brothers leaving, or someone who he'd met once upon a time all those years ago. Arceus knows that unlike his brothers he hasn't grown since then. This was a great idea, much better than wandering the city on his own, or so Oliver told himself.
What felt like hours, but was actually quite likely only a few minutes, a figure emerged. Any sane person may have been cautious about approaching anyone who exited, let alone someone so much larger than themself, but Ollie was anything but. Perhaps it was due to those he grew up around, but the pink haired male strode up to the much, much taller man with the confidence of a Pyroar.
❝Oi!❞ Oliver exclaimed as he approached, waiving his arms to assure he would catch the other's attention.
Subtlety? Never heard of her.
❝Perfect! I was oh-so hoping someone would come out here to help me. It seems my jerks of brothers stood me up . . . ❞ To accentuate his point, Ollie blinked his large blue eyes up to the stranger with his best pout. Grown man or not, he knew he had a babyface, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to make use of it.
❝I'm pretty sure they should be inside if you'd be so kind as to help me find them~! You will help me find them . . . right? I can make it worth your while, I own a bakery in Galar and brought plenty of sweets to share with the, that I could share with you instead. Oh~! Oh better yet, you could take their place and be my brother for a day. I might even be inclined to give you the other gifts I brought for them if you did.❞
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4A for Roland Canterbury/or H.J. Canterbury for the expressions thingie yipeee -sits politely-
Roland Canterbury + Sleepy = work's been busy !
AC Expression Meme
#- did i go a little overboard lol#- maybe#- but im getting more practice animating so its a win for me xP#thsc#thsc roland canterbury#digital art#animation#character design#fanart
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Blood Sugar… Ch.11
~PLEASE READ! So many things to say! So first of all, in case any of you haven’t seen it yet, I did commission some art for Blood Sugar recently! So if you’d like an artist’s rendition of “the scene” from chapter 7! Click here!! But to the actual author’s note… I did once again split the chapter. But to be fair, if I didn’t then this would’ve been 14k I think at least. If you see a timeline error in this… I’ll fix it. I think I got them all. But get ready for fucking four whole Hamlet chapters because I’m a disaster! I hope you like them though!~
Tags: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen
Word count: 7.4k
Content warnings: Suggestive themes and elements, philosophy???, choking (but debatably in a bad way), references to illness
AO3 link!
Previous!
Something Rotten
Balmy darkness pulsed all around. The sound of the tide, ebbing closer and closer, rolled over her mind. Salty air and the heaviness of her heart matched the coarse texture of sand between her fingers while long hair swept over her arms thanks to the breeze. When she finally opened her eyes, they were greeted by the pink and orange painted sky of Salle just before twilight. There was no sun on the horizon, much less a horizon at all, just the colors and flat light that cradled her skin.
“Found you.” A voice called out from behind her. Slightly graveled the way it usually was.
“And you snuck up on me again.” She smiled, always liking it when he managed to. Not like she ever earnestly tried to hide from him, though. Turning over her shoulder, she found a handsome face. Dark hair that seemed too short but was swept back as though it were longer. Tired brown eyes. A light amount of stubble… was that new or old? She couldn’t remember. “How do you always manage to sniff me out anyway?”
“You like to walk a little too close to the edge. So I check there first.” He remarked and she found him kneeling down to sit beside her.
“Bit hypocritical coming from you isn’t it?” The words formed with a chuckle woven between.
“At least I know I’m doing it. For you, it’s subconscious.” Fingers brushed the back of her hand. “Why are you here this time?”
She thought to herself for a moment. Feeling the hot air mix with a cool wind that didn’t feel like it belonged to the beginnings of summer. “I don’t know.”
“Try to.” The fingers wrapped around her wrist, pushing her hand deeper into the sand.
“I used to come here the night before summer break started. Before I’d have to go back home.”
“This is your home.” Lucanis interjected. She laughed.
“They both are.” She sighed nostalgically. “So maybe I came here because of that. Going home.”
“You looked lost that day. I told you that.”
“Yeah, well, I definitely felt like I was.” Her head turned, finding Lucanis’s eyes on her mouth.
“You said you’d miss me.”
“Because I did.”
“But you didn’t call. Didn’t tell anyone back home, this home, that you were okay.” He countered.
“Because I wasn’t.” She said.
“If leaving the person you love to fester in worry, not knowing if something had happened to you or if you had died, is what you do when you aren’t okay then I guess that justifies not going back for this long.”
“Damn, are you here to make me feel better or to lecture me?” She tried to pull her hand away but he held firm, something coiling in the pit of her stomach.
“Neither.” He said, gentle but unyielding. “You didn’t deny what I said. That you love me.”
“I did. Or maybe it was just a crush, I don’t know. But I’m fine now.”
“Do you hate me, then?” He asked, and it made her heart crack just a little.
“No. I could never hate you.” How could she? Lucanis did so much for her.
“So what changed?”
He looked… pained. Fatigue was a normal expression on him, but not real anguish, not for her. So it shifted to something she recognized as pity. “Love is about proximity. Both physically and metaphorically.” Foam lapped at the sides of her feet. “Loving you was like wanting to be crushed by the sea. The problem with always walking on the edge of it was that the tide shifts. It’s never consistent. I was never where I was supposed to be. And then, when I was gone, there was no proximity. So I chose to stop.”
“You have a very pretty way of taking all the romance out of liking someone.” He muttered. “And I don’t know if you really believe that.” His retort was gifted with an inquiring expression.
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” The sky was starting to darken. Purple bleeding into the vast expanse like wings forming from his silhouette. “You can’t love something you’re not tethering yourself to in one way or another. People, places, things, emotions. If you only have the concept of something, you aren’t exactly loving it, right? That’s infatuation. You have to know something to love it. And the only way you can learn about something is to have it close by. Proximity.”
“By that logic, wouldn’t that mean you loved him too?” Lucanis questioned, and she felt his presence bare down on her form. He didn’t need to say who he meant. She just knew.
“No. That wasn’t love. It was desperation.” She groaned.
“Then perhaps proximity isn’t actually the answer.”
There was a cushioning weight at the back of her head. A plush crunch. When had she ended up on her back? Looking to the side, the licking waves seemed so far away. Back up to the sky, and there was Lucanis, hovering above her. His breath smelled like coffee.
He had told her once that a first kiss tasted like lavender and honey cream. But a kiss goodbye was bitter and sweet. What if a first kiss was also the last one? “Are you afraid to find out?” He asked her. She must’ve been talking out loud.
“You know me. I’m not afraid of anything.” Her retort caused his eyes to darken.
“Liar.” He replied. “You fear. Just never the right thing. And never at the right time.”
There was a pressure at her hips, Lucanis had somehow found a way between her legs. A radiating sensation formed at her right side. Not pain. Numbness that could dance beneath her skin. He was so close. So warm. Her eyes lulled back into the blackness as lips pressed into one another.
Too hard, too fast. The sound of the waves twisted. Pitching up, picking up speed, but perfectly tempered. The beating in her chest matched its tempo. Or it matched hers. It was hers. Mechanical and sharp. Everything was sharp. It was beeping. Sharp in her ears and spiking with her heart rate.
The air was sterile and cold. No breeze, no movement. Agonizingly still. But the mouth grew more fervent. She felt no stubble, nor any essence of coffee. All blue-raspberry because it just tasted like her and nothing else. Even with a tongue slipping past her teeth, it was just the flavor of herself folded over again and again. Sickly sweet and cheap. Impatience nipped with canines at her lower lip but she felt it in her hip again. It hurts, stinging and ripping like stitches torn open. And after what felt like an eternity, she heard a voice. A shudder and gasp, nearing a growl, it spoke a single word.
“Vhenan.”
The beeping grew louder. Sheets between fingers. Limbs wrapping around and tugging her back upright. On to bended knees, on to a lap. There was no more kiss and instead the weight seemed to exist all around her. It was still dark but her eyes had opened. Slightly harder to breathe with fabric pressing into her mouth and nose. Something cold glided past the backs of her thighs and she pulled away. A massive gasp for air filling her lungs.
The body beneath her went still. Her vision filled with a ceiling that couldn’t decide if it was made from stone or formed by thick books. She looked forward once more. “Are you alright, Darling?”
It was Emmrich. Just Emmrich. Had it always been him? She hoped so. Choking a few more breaths, she nodded. But shoulders treacherously trembled. “I’m okay.” She said with a shaking voice. Hands cupped at the sides of her face, thumbs swiping at her cheek.
“There, there.” He cooed. “I have you now.” A pleased smile turned at the corners of his lips. “Maker, you sound pretty even when you cry.”
Was she crying? Her face felt wet, and her chest was heaving. If she was, then it was far from delicate. It had to have been a full, throat clenching sob. She shook her head.
“No, I don’t.” She sniffled, and it sounded far more childish than she’d prefer. But Emmrich hummed, elegant fingers stretching down to her neck.
“Poor thing. So hurt.” His usual gentility was absent, and instead replaced by something she could only understand as taunting. He breathed in deep, taking a consuming inhale of her scent. “It’s beautiful, but not quite right. Why don’t I make you cry instead?”
“What?” She asked without anticipating a real answer. Thumbs pushed up into the underside of chin, forcing her gaze close to the ceiling again. Emmrich’s eyes loomed high above, and they felt like a knife hanging off nothingness. Begging to split her.
“You always push people to their limits. A dangling prize that you expect no one to try and take. But I did. You brought me to the edge, so I took you. That is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She protested.
“You had me chase you through a fucking garden.” He hissed. “Then you sulked when I left. Because you wanted more. Always wanting more. I took what I desired because you wished for me to take it. And now, I long to make you weep. Call out for mercy, to gods, to me, with tears streaming down your face. Because that’s what you want, Dearest.”
“I…” Words lacked the capacity for her thoughts. Or she didn’t have thoughts. He seemed impossibly tall from this angle. And his hands, were they always capable of wrapping around her throat that easily? He squeezed. Growing in force with every passing second.
The ever shrinking, immeasurable space of the world seemed to burst at the seams. All moon and candle light across his face. What small inhales she could pull from her nose reeked of car exhaust, burning with gasoline and murky with oil. But Emmrich leaned into her open mouth and breathed deeply. As though it was a delicacy to savor someone’s dying breath. But he looked at her with such irrevocable compassion. And it felt wonderful.
“Do I frighten you, Darling?”
Eyes open.
Sweat.
Tangled in sheets.
Rook jolted, half shooting out the bed. Every inch of her body was burning alive but quickly cooling into an ill-stenched chill against wet skin. Legs kicked out in a fury to draw the bedding away from her, curling in on herself close to the edge while catching gulps of air. The old t-shirt clung to her back and made her feel revolted. When her eyes caught the edges of the frame, instinct took over and the picture was flipped down. Free from eyes she really didn’t need judging her right now.
Dreams mean nothing. Unshaped thoughts that only take a form based upon a listener’s hands. Botching the imagery to fit their own thoughts. So long as she didn’t carve a shape into its face then it would continue to be amorphous. That was for the best.
…
It had taken far too long for her to decide what to save Emmrich as in her phone. Couldn’t be ‘E’, that was reserved for Elek. ‘EV’ seemed like someone could easily figure out who it was on the off chance someone saw who she was messaging, and by someone she meant Viago. Which also meant ‘Lichdom’ was out of the question… Well, there was a funny idea but he’d probably hate it. Counterpoint, it was really funny.
Her phone buzzed. New message from ‘skull emoji Daddy’. Bone Daddy will never not be hilarious. She read the previous interaction for the third time.
‘Good evening, Rook! Apologies for the late hour, something came up. But worry not, I have not forgotten my promise. Our current study materials shall include; Knowledge of Wars Past by Helga Firminoss (third edition), Banner’s Call by Eike Maierhorn, and War Torn Alienage by Eolas Alerion.’
A photo was below, showing Knowledge of Wars Past’s binding. His hand was also in the shot, grasping the book at the bottom. Fuck, was that what made her have that weird dream? Rook tore her eyes away from the photo to continue reading.
‘The third edition includes a design along the spine, if that aids you in its search. We left off on page 47, I believe. However, I was unable to find a copy of War Torn Alienage at Blackthorn. It has likely been checked out. I can provide my personal copy on Wednesday, if you would prefer.’
Below that was another text that Rook deleted. But she recalled it as reading: ‘Sincerely yours, Emmrich’. Which was just too precious.
‘Thank you, sir. But don’t use your real name again.’
‘Safer that way.’
‘Apologies! I will refrain from doing so.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind me borrowing your copy?’
‘I can wait, it’s not a big deal.’
‘It would be my pleasure. I shall bring it tomorrow.’
‘Thank you.’ Purple heart emoji.
The newest message was below.
‘If you have any questions, I am only a message away.’
Creators, he was practically setting himself up for a tease. Any worries that she had about giving him her number quickly melted away as the excitement took hold. How to respond, how to respond?
‘Any questions?’
‘That’s a dangerous offer, Sweets.’
‘You should know better by now than to give me that much.’
‘Tits or ass?’
Weariness already tickled at Rook’s brain. Taking Jacobus to The Diamond turned, reasonably, into a whole ordeal with them still trying to figure out what was happening. Viago and Teia wouldn’t tell her much, but her Handler canceled her only appointment for that day. The only details she’d gotten were from what little Jacobus had shared with her while she drove. Fucking Antaam. Again.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything she could really do about it right now. It’d be out of her hands until either her Employer or Handler decided she was needed. They’d find Dareth, and then him and Jacobus could explain this mess.
Which meant it was time to focus on the work she could take. So, a trip back to Blackthorn was in order. And where she found herself outside of as she sent the last message to Emmrich. Her phone slipped back into her bag as she entered.
Like always, Heiner was sitting at the front desk. But this time, when he saw Rook a look of worry struck through his eyes. Readjusting glasses and it was gone. She waved, he waved back hesitantly. Steps were nearly silent as she wove through the aisles her and Emmrich had gone through yesterday. Not bothering to look for the book he had already offered to let her borrow.
A new problem that she was finding was the height of the shelves. Usually, Emmrich was with her or had been with her while picking out materials and he had a significant height advantage on her. Merda, what was the average height in Nevarra? Six feet? She just needed a couple more inches to be able to grab Banner’s Call and it was just her luck that she decided not to wear her boots today. Just as she was about to step away to try and find one of those little step stools, something pressed into her. Making her freeze.
A hand at the small of her back, and the unmistakable sense of body heat poured over her from above. She looked up to find someone plucking the text she was after off the shelf. “Sorry. You looked like you could use some help.” The figure backed away, and Rook turned to find Heiner standing behind her and presenting the book. One must smile, and smile more, and be a liar for having done so.
But of course, he simply had to touch her to grab the book. Couldn’t have asked her to step back first. Whatever.
“My library savior coming in with a swift assist.” She said, taking the book and adding it to the now stack. “How ever can I repay you?” Expecting some kind of bashful expression, she was surprised to instead find him gazing at her woefully.
“You don’t have to ‘repay me’ for doing something for you. It’s my job.” Even his tone was laced with some sort of dejection that she didn’t quite understand.
“Oh, I know. I was just making a joke.” She said warily.
“Are you doing okay?” He asked softly. Rook raised a brow.
“Yeah, I’m alright… Why do you ask?”
That made him almost scowl. As if the very act of her protest was too much, despite it being next to nothing at all. Or like he had caught her in a lie when she wasn’t. “Yesterday.” Ah. “You left in a hurry and you looked pretty upset. So I just wanted to check in.” That must be why he’s acting so fucking weird. She grinned sheepishly.
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’m fine.”
“What happened?” Did he think they were close enough to where he could ask that? Rook brought the books to her chest, hugging them tight. Normally, she’d have no issue with someone being able to look down the gap in her shirt, but admittedly she was feeling a bit put off by all of this and the minimal additional coverage was fictitious comfort. Of course, she did it with the perfect amount of mousiness that his type usually fawn over.
“Family stuff. Nothing too bad, I just get tunnel vision when I’m mad. But it's fine now.” She reassured.
“Professor Volkarin looked really worried.”
Rook paused at that. So, he knew Emmrich’s name now. No big deal, nothing to get worried about. “Yeah… He brought my stuff out to me. I kind of had to leave in a hurry. Good thing he did too, or else I would’ve left everything behind. Including my keys!” Her finger ran across the spine of one of the books, acting embarrassed by it.
Crow’s don’t flinch. Or at least they do everything in their power to avoid it unless requested. And when Heiner reached a hand towards Rook, that was no exception. Movements, actions of any sort, were always a tell. So, she remained calm. Still as the air before a storm. Fingers grazed the top most strands of her hair. A ghoulish touch that she felt more in her vertebrae than on her scalp. But he grasped the shelf behind her and leaned.
Rook followed the path, allowing her weight to shift more towards her heels until her back pressed into the divots. The act on Heiner’s part was done fluidly and yet lacked any sort of real confidence. She thought it similar to how she could always sniff out the new people in competition season. Knowing what to do on paper but thrown into the deep end would make anyone second guess.
“Look, this is probably going to sound really sudden but…” He trailed off, briefly chewing on his tongue to find the right words. “I know you said you’re new here, and I already told you I’d help you out if I could- But, well-” Fuck, spit it already. “What I’m trying to say is, if you need more than just library help, the offer still applies.”
If Rook weren’t already in ‘work mode’, she would’ve grimaced. But she looked off to the side, downcast. And he released a held breath that smelled overbearingly of spearmint gum. “That’s… really sweet of you. Thanks.” Just say whatever will make him back up the fastest.
He got quiet, suspiciously so. Rook looked up again to find him studying her. Was he… disappointed? He wasn’t upset, he looked relieved in the jaw but disheartened in the eyes. His reaction had one face while he made himself another. Was he expecting a different answer? Try to lighten the mood.
“But, speaking of library help, I do need these checked out. Care to save me from accidentally stealing government property?” She grinned. And he returned it, although somewhat hesitantly. Heiner stepped away to gesture back towards the desk.
“I don’t know if I’d call that saving, but yeah. I can get that for you.”
The moment Heiner’s back turned, the gentle smile dropped from her visage. An embroidery of annoyance fitting into her expression as a realization came over her. Rook had always been the sort to trust her gut. So when she felt the twist deep within the pith and marrow of herself, she knew it was best to listen and wait.
…
Wednesday had been unexpected. Emmrich took Strife’s words to heart. But none of it was fair, when had it ever been? Things could not be simple. Things couldn’t just be. And it was least of all fair to her. The fragility of their circumstances weighed heavily on his conscience. If every little thing seemed like a machination designed to drag him into the depths, then what would that do to her? Was he to drag her down with him?
No.
That wouldn’t do at all. He needed time. Just another day. Not a cancellation just… another day. He knew he didn’t have it in him to cancel this time anyways, even if he felt it was still an option. If he had known how Monday would have gone, he would have asked Johanna to have her trial for today instead. Maker, give him the strength to just stay on task. Just for today.
When he left the University that afternoon, he went in prepared. With an admittedly absurd amount of materials for her to go through so that he may learn what she preferred for future lessons. If there was anything he was good at, it was working. Drowning in work. Not even the essence of artificial fruit could penetrate the curving waft of paper, leather, and ink. So long as he kept the pages moving, he could breathe.
Then the weekend would grace him with some time to… think, perhaps. To consider more deeply what he ought to be doing. And to consider what Rook was doing.
The shocking part of it was that her mood was more contemplative than usual. She did not tease him, as he had anticipated her to do, but she was not upset either. At least not overtly from what he could glean. However, she did make a rather intriguing request.
“Let’s take our lesson outside today.” She said. It had not been the first time they’d done so, but he had been the one to insist on it before. Again, she had met him in the parking lot outside Blackthorn. Only this time, she had not made a show of flagging him down and instead texted him her location. As though she were hiding.
“Are you sure?” The weather would not have been so bad had there not been such a strong breeze that day. She was wearing a jacket, so that at least told him this decision had not been entirely spontaneous.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I think I’d prefer to walk around. Or we can do it in your car, I guess. Just maybe not in this parking lot.” She debated, leaning up against the tree she had tucked herself behind. The idea of having her in his car made him nervous, but her demeanor made it all the worse.
It’d be one thing if she had phrased it another way, the way she usually would. Some kind of tongue-in-cheek remark about how she wanted to have a moment of private with him, of course spoken with more salacious intent. But she hadn’t. She was almost skittish, crossed arms and anxious fingers.
“I guess it might be kind of cold… We can go if you’d prefer.” She backtracked, and immediately Emmrich replied.
“Not at all.” His gaze dawdled over toward the building in the distance. Perhaps she was weary of returning so soon after her encounter with the boy. Worried that someone may recognize and question her. She did say she picked up the books yesterday, there was a chance someone already had. Regardless, it was clear that something she believed to be awaiting her inside made her uncomfortable. “If you do not mind me going off script for this lecture, I can forgo the reading. The wind is rather disagreeable today. But how will you take notes?”
“I’ll just type it in my notes app and copy it over later.” She smiled appreciatively.
The walk had been pleasant. But she always made sure to walk on whichever side would make her less visible to the direction the building was facing. So, he observed her carefully. Every moment they stopped, Emmrich would angle himself to block more of her, and she would relax every time and grant him a small upturn of her lips. As though she had instantly figured out what he was doing. She probably had even if he didn’t say anything, nor did she clarify the necessity for it. But by the end of the appointment, she was in much better spirits. That was what mattered.
All around uneventful. They parted ways with a promise for Rook to ask him questions later after she fulfilled a different contract. And the questions were plentiful. Most to do with simple clarifications to do with the lesson. A few were not. Though, one exchange did stand out.
‘What do you do on the days we don’t have sessions?’
‘Like on days we normally would? I’m guessing you still keep yourself busy.’
‘I focus most of my time to work in the Necropolis.’
‘… Is that a code for something I’m supposed to know?’
Ah, right, she hadn’t explored much of the campus. At least he imagined she didn’t.
‘The Necropolis is the building behind the lecture hall!’
‘I had informed you that we functioned as a research center as well, did I not?’
‘You did. I guess I just didn’t think much about it.’
For a few minutes, Emmrich debated how to respond. She had asked him what he does but… That did not necessarily mean she was interested in his ramblings. He could try to be brief.
‘The Necropolis is where we allocate most of our physical work outside of the lectern. Forensics, curation, other such studies are kept there while most everything else is left to Mortalitasi Hall. In all likelihood, you will be introduced to it soon.’
‘Cool, so now I know where to go if I have a bone to pick.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Or are the pickings more bare-bones?’
‘No, knowing you it’s probably a bone-afide museum in there!’
‘I feel it in my bones!’
‘That’s quite enough now, Miss Rook.’
‘What? Am I not tickling your… funny-bone?’
’Okay, I’m done now.’
‘It is appreciated.’
‘Hey! Give me some credit. I could have made a boning you joke.’
‘But I didn’t. You’re welcome.’ And she sent it with a purple heart beside it.
‘That is also appreciated.’
On Thursday evening, he learned something new. Rook liked puns. Terrible puns at that. Maker, she was too much.
…
Friday was absolutely fucking exhausting. Emmrich really hadn’t been kidding when he said she could be a lot. Not that Rook didn’t believe him already, but still. Rook ended up sitting there mostly in silence just to keep up with the breakneck pace that woman seemed to exist at.
Then, on Saturday, Viago had to break the news to her that Gloam and Lichdom switched days because Hezenkoss would be unavailable. Two Fridays in a row. The only good news was that supposedly she had been rather complimentary of Rook’s performance the previous day. Which meant that Johanna likes the ‘dog’ types. Obedient to every command. Rook could at least work with that.
It was crazy just how different her two tutors seemed. Time with Johanna felt like she was being drawn and quartered, while Emmrich… Maybe she shouldn’t think about how time with the professor felt.
There was a four hour appointment for her that night and leading into Sunday, so her Handler had already blocked her off for the day. Sessions with The General were few and far between, but they were always intensive. Having ostensibly all of Sunday off felt like a treat, and she intended to use it to the fullest extent. Which included having some dear friends over to stay the night. A much needed get together, partially for Rook but mostly for Bellara as this was her first weekend back since Arlathan and not on a school day.
Having company always made Rook’s meager accommodations feel well thought out. Plenty of space to breathe and lots of room for air mattresses without moving furniture. The smell of baked goods and hair oil, earthy and infused with lavender, hid the trace fragrance of her perfume, that made her feel less alone than either of her companions could even realize. Like bygone summers in the Free Marches.
“So, he’s going back into chemo again?” Harding asked, sitting criss crossed on Rook’s couch. This was the first time Lace had seen their friend up and well enough to explain what was going on. But since Rook lived next door, she’d already been made aware of everything.
“Yeah, but they said they caught it early this time! Which is good news. Really good news.” Bellara’s shoulders released a sigh below the backs of Rook’s knees. “I’m still glad I went home… Just in case, you know?”
“Mhm.” Rook ran her fingers over Bellara’s scalp, working the oil into the roots. Her saying that caused Harding to take her sights off of the woman on the floor and flick to the one sharing the couch with her.
“I get it. Better to go and see for yourself than avoid it.” The comment was in response to Bellara, spoken with an understanding tone. But make no mistake, Lace had only been looking at Rook as she said it. “I’m glad to see you back again, though. And way less tired.”
Harding had been the one to pick up Bellara from the airport when she came home early Monday morning. Rook had offered, but Lace was always persistent. She would be out and about that early anyways, she could take calls from Cassandra and Leliana while in the car, and other such arguments were made. The grind never stops at Seeker. But Bels had been pretty out of it and didn’t talk much. So the phone calls didn’t bother her anyway.
And if Rook knew Bellara, that probably meant she hadn’t slept the whole time she was back in Arlathan and was coming down with the emotional crash. That was proven by the fact that she slept through almost the entirety of Monday. Even missed her classes. Which is why Rook kindly offered to work on her hair in her friend’s stead. One less thing for her to worry about to start the new week. An activity usually reserved for either a mother and daughter or between sisters, sometimes close cousins.
“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better now that I've settled back into the class schedule.” Bellara leaned her head back to glance up at Rook. “Thanks for doing this, by the way. You didn’t have to, but it’s really nice.”
“Don’t mention it.” She smiled, and only Lace picked up on the sad way her eyes deepened at the corners.
“I can do yours after! If you want!” Bellara beamed.
Rook’s fingers dragged more slowly. Pensive and apprehensive, before she smirked with a tilt of her own. “I can do mine myself. Besides, my hair is like three feet shorter than yours. Doesn’t really take a whole lot of effort.” She picked up the comb and slowly ran it through the lightly damp threads of rich brown.
Easier, faster, less of a bother, used to it, less depressing. Plenty of reasons for her to just wait and do it herself. Bellara hummed with slight disappointment.
“Harding…” Rook groaned to change the subject, turning her head. Lace squinted. “Hearth cake… Please… So hungry…”
“So have a hearth cake.” She snorted mischievously.
“I have oil on my hands!” Rook whined, flashing puppy eyes. “As sweet as Bels may be, I don’t think she wants sugary crumbs in her hair. And they’re all the way over there!” She motioned with her forehead over to the kitchen. “Pretty please?” The hair falling over her nose made her friend chuckle in the middle of an eye roll.
“Alright, alright, I’ll get you one. But just one! You’ve done nothing but eat sweets since we got here.” Lace chastised but got up all the same.
“Thank you! If you could grab my phone out of my bag too, then you’d be my favorite person in the whole, wide world!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m pretty sure you’ve given me that title like twelve times now.”
“And you’ve earned it every single time!” Rook retorted with a toothy grin.
This was nice. It’d been a while since Harding had the chance to actually hang out. Well, she offered to stay for a while last time but Rook had to get ready for work so… “Do you want one too, Bellara?” Lace asked.
“Yes please!”
Old habits were hard to break, the time to do hair was usually filled with melodies. Now was no exception, weaving through the gap of silence. Twisting in the back of her mouth and pressing through sinus passages. Bels wriggled her head again to glance at her.
“Rook, are you okay?”
Raising a brow, she replied. “Yeah, I’m good.” Bellara made a tight lipped smile.
“So are you doing Suledin for me then?” Oh. Was she? Bellara picked up where Rook’s humming left off. “In elgar sa vir mana, in tu setheneran din emma na.”
“Ah, sorry. I didn’t even notice.” She sighed.
“You know, you can always change your mind, right? My parents would love to have you over for Arlathvhen! If you’re feeling homesick, I mean.”
For a moment, Rook debated. She could make a cheeky comment back. Something like ‘oh, if I wanted a trip back home then I’d just hop on a plane to Salle’. But that didn’t feel right. Thankfully, Bellara had asked quietly enough that their friend didn’t hear. Otherwise, Rook knew that it would become much more than a pleasant offer.
“Will you take an ‘I’ll think about it’?” She asked, and Bellara nodded with a lilt of excitement.
A few moments later, Harding returned with her hands full. A plate with three hearth cakes in one hand and Rook’s clunky smartphone in the other. She bent over slightly, letting Bellara pluck one in hand with the other cupped below to catch the crumbs. Rook leaned over and opened her mouth.
“I’m not feeding it to you.” Lace chuckled.
“Oil hands! Please! Favorite person!” She pleaded before opening her mouth again.
“Ugh, fine!” Her friend teased, juggling her hold on the plate so that she’d have a free hand. It took a second for her to find a semi comfortable hold. The phone slotted between fingers and the plate on her forearm. Taking a cake, she brought it to Rook’s teeth and allowed her to rip a full bite off. Tongue and neck working together in angles to fit it fully in her mouth with the least amount of mess as she could manage. Bellara was from Arlathan, and apparently they added cranberries to their hearth cakes. Rook was used to currants. But they were delicious all the same.
She attempted to thank her friend, but with a full mouth it more or less turned into pillowy nonsense. Still, her friend got the idea and grinned. Rook’s phone screen lit up, out of sight. And Harding peered down at the screen to check the time.
“Uh…” She trailed off. “Hey Rook?”
“Hmph?”
“Quick question, who’s Skull Daddy?” Rook’s neck snapped to attention, catching her friend looking at the screen with a drawn expression. Bellara stifled a surprised cough. “Apparently they’re wondering about ‘your thoughts on the essence of suffering as presented in the text, within the context garnered from previous readings.’ What is this? A riddle?”
Bellara began scrambling to her feet, momentarily forgetting the fact that Rook was more or less hooked to her. Shoulders to knees. Which created a mess of legs and arms as each tried to find a way out. Rook’s jaw chewed, attempting to force heavy swallows as fast as she could.
“Let me see, let me see, let me see-” Bellara’s insistence was cut.
“No! No seeing! He’s no one!”
“Well, he’s clearly someone. You don’t exactly give your number away easily.” Lace snorted but staved off Bels from snooping by pushing the phone back into Rook’s slicked hand.
“Maybe I just have an antagonistic relationship with my father. You don’t know.” She argued, tucking the phone between her arm and ribs. Harding gave her a pointed look.
“Now, I know you’re not trying to pull the ‘real dad’ card on me, Rook.” Her red braid slipped off her shoulder as she put a hand on her hip. Curse them knowing each other for almost ten years. A devious grin stretched across her face. “Oh, you only get defensive like this when you like someone.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Uh… yeah! You do!”
Bellara, not so subtly, scooched closer to Rook. All the while pretending to not look at where the top of the phone was peeking out. “I do not. And even if I did, I have nothing to get defensive over.” Rook’s comment made Bels’ attention divert, eyes honing in on a multi-pierced ear. Suddenly, the pointed tip on the right was lightly pinched between a pointer finger and thumb. She yelped in surprise.
“Your ears are burning up!” Bellara squealed.
“Ay! Merda! No!” Rook shook her head free. “I’m Antivan, we run hot.”
“What’s he like? The skull makes me think he’s got to be sort of dark and mysterious, right? Maybe brooding!” Bellara theorized.
“Knowing Rook’s type? Probably.” Harding snorted into her knuckles. “Is he Antivan too? Overly complicated with a dubious background?” Bels gasped.
“Oh. My. Creators… Rook, are you a mafia boss girlfriend? Did you used to be?” The questions made Rook want to double over on herself. Partially in laughter at the ridiculous fantasy, the knowledge that it wasn’t actually too far off, and total embarrassment to make up the rest. With Bellara, everything sounded like a serial. Overbearingly romantic and tragic.
“Did she never tell you about her and Lucan-”
“Wow! I actually hate this!” Rook exclaimed. Bellara’s eyes went wide like a halla’s in headlights.
“You? And Lucanis? When? How?”
“Nope. Not touching that. Can we stop talking about this now?”
Her defeated expression must have finally caught up to her companions, as an uncomfortable quiet befell them. Rook hated quiet. This night was supposed to be for Bels, to help her feel better. And it suddenly occurred to Rook that the most excited she had seen her friend since she got back was… while talking about this. A heavy groan tumbled out of her teeth.
“Lucanis never liked me like that, so I never told him. Nor do I have plans to admit that so if any of you do then you’ll be my enemy for forever.” Lace already knew that, so the comment was mostly directed at Bellara. “We’re just friends, and he’s dating one of my other friends and it’s amazing and I love that for them. So there isn’t much to talk about, it’s not really that interesting.”
“I mean… it was a little interesting.” Harding admitted. Rook glared at her. “What? That story has Bellara written all over it.”
Long, wetted hair well over her friend’s vallaslin. Full of coy guilt. “Only if you’re okay with telling me… You don’t have to if it’ll make you upset. But I am curious.”
Creators, who could ever say no to that face? She looked like a kitten. “Fine but- Dio Cane, not right now, okay? I don’t have any liquor and definitely not enough wine to open that can of worms.” Another time. Hopefully at least a couple more days after having a concerning dream about him. Which she still had no intention to tell anyone about, least of all Bellara. Dalish superstitions and all.
“But is there enough wine to talk about the new one?” Lace’s voice teetered. Looking at Bels and… she was giving Rook the eyes again.
“No wine necessary. But I’m playing by Hunt rules, I don’t have to answer anything I don’t want to.” She spun on the balls of her feet, picking up the towel had been using for the hair and drying her hands with it. As best as she could. Her phone plopped onto the leather cushioning before Rook’s body collapsed on top of it. Then proceeded to bury her eyes in the crook of her elbow so that she wouldn’t have to look at them. There were a few moments of shuffling and the settling of weight before one of them spoke, surprisingly close to Rook’s face.
“Is he tall?” Bellara went first with Harding sputtering a giggle.
“That’s seriously what you want to know first?” She countered.
“I want to get a good picture of him in my mind!”
“Yeah, he’s pretty tall.” Rook answered.
“Like tall for an elf? Average height for a human? Short for a Qunari but still tall?”
“Tall for a human, I think.”
Rook could practically feel the nervousness radiating off Harding at the admission. Yeah, this was why stuff was hard to talk about sometimes. Of course, Lace would never spill any of this to anyone, least of all let it slip to Rook’s mother. But they both knew.
“How old is he?” She asked, pointedly. It was a fair question, given Lucanis, but she didn’t really know how to respond.
“Not sure. But he’s older than me.” Way older, she should keep that to herself. Bellara laughed almost manically.
“Is he handsome? Or is he more like… hot? Oh! Or cute! Like a soft type!”
Heat flushed to Rook’s face. In the darkness, she imagined Emmrich’s face and she thought to herself. “Handsome but in a really distinguished way. Classic and sort of gentlemanly. Kind of like those old movies.” That was the best way she could think to describe him.
“Human, tall, handsome… Is he actually Antivan or no?”
“Nope.” She replied.
“I’m going to be honest, that’s surprising.” Harding muttered.
“How did you guys meet?” Bels shifted again and Rook felt a bit of pressure against the side of her ribs.
“Next question.”
The weight of worry was there again. Lace… probably knew what that meant. She wouldn’t say anything but she probably figured out at least part of it. “On a scale of one to ten, how much of a Lucanis situation is this? Be honest.”
“That isn’t a fair question if I don’t know what that means!” Bellara argued.
“Like a seven… ish. Sorry, Bels.” From Harding’s perspective, that was very important because it came with multiple layers. Viago was probably going to kick her ass for this. The head resting on her side made a pouting noise.
“Fine.” She conceded with a groan. “So… how far have you two gone? I’m assuming kind of far. Because of the name.”
“Damn, Bels. I’m a lady. Can’t talk about that.”
“Come on! I wanna know!” She poked her bicep.
“Have you held hands?” Harding specified.
Rook paused. “I don’t think so?”
“You have him saved as ‘Skull Daddy’ and you haven’t even held hands?” Rook could practically hear the scrunch in Bellara’s brow as she questioned it. “Or did you guys just skip to kissing?”
Harding has known Rook for a long time. Way longer than Bellara had. So when Rook stopped breathing and went impossibly still, she knew something was reeling through her mind. “Oh no… Rook. No.”
“What?” Bellara’s presence left. And unbeknownst to her, their suspiciously quiet friend was going through the closest thing to an existential crisis she’d had in a long time.
“I… don’t think we’ve kissed yet.” Her words were slightly muffled by the sofa.
“Rook, please tell me it’s because you haven’t done anything at all yet.” Harding pleaded.
Her mind filled with thoughts of the garden, the mausoleum. His lips on her neck, voice in her ear, fingers inside her, and then a kiss to the top of her head. As she felt the eyes of her friends burrow further into her to seek an answer, all she had to offer was an unintelligible grumble that mingled back and forth between her tongues.
And the rest was silence.
#I’ll be honest I just wanted a scene where some of the girls get to be girls y’know?#did I go overboard on it? MAYBE but who’s to say? it’s fun!#emmrook#emmrich volkarin#emmrook fanfic#emmrich x rook#mojo writes#mojo checks blood sugar
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FF/IV Week Preview
Okay now I'm excited for FF/IV week so I thought I'd try to draft a little something. The final fic won't be in script format like this, but this bit branched from bullet notes so it stayed in that format and that's what you get as your little preview. This is for the prompt(s) Taste of Freedom/Locked Up!
Rosa or someone: “If anyone has shackled you, it’s yourself. Though they may be a symbol of Baron’s past, they need not be Baron’s future. Baron has succeeded without Dark Knights in many a battle before, and can continue to succeed without them in days to come. They’re so few in number; would it really make that much of a difference to remove them entirely?”
Cecil argues yes. A good military is well rounded. If they’re to keep Baron and her people safe, they must be skilled on multiple fronts. He in no way means to discount the efforts of the Dragoons, the Black and White Mages, the Cavalieres, the Footmen, or the Kingsbow, but they are not Dark Knights. Someone must hold the van (hold the fore? Front the van? Phrasing). They need someone to protect them.
Rosa: “Then let us create a new Dark Knight! If we are lacking in protectors, if Dark Knights are truly so indispensable because we have none to take their place, then let us mold a new sort of Knight. Let us forge a newer, stronger shield to helm Baron's defense. You need not throw away your life-”
Cecil: “I am not throwing away my life, Rosa, I am putting it to use! I am honoring my king and country! I am doing as my forebears did, fully cognizant of the cost and fully willing to pay it! Why can you not understand this?”
Rosa, unbelieving/scoffing: “Do you not hear yourself? Have you not listened to your own words; have you no awareness of the tone in which you speak them? Where is the Cecil of my childhood? Where is the boy who treated all with kindness, who thought the best of people and did not let fear overcome him when it had not earned its stay?"
Cecil, angry: “I have grown, Rosa. Father- the King grows fearful of war. Mysidia has grown more covetous of its crystal, Fabul is raising an army, and Damcyan-”
Rosa: “Damcyan is a center of the arts, Fabul holds fast to its traditions in order to fend off the monsters that lap at its border just as they do ours, and Mysidia covets its crystal no more than Baron covets her own. What wrong have these places done, Cecil? What reason have you for action other than unfounded fear and insecurity?”
Cecil, doubting himself: “You know not of what you speak.”
Rosa: “I know well enough! And if I do not, then tell me, Cecil. Let me bear some of the load which has burdened you so. Since you claimed that armor I’ve been watching it freeze your heart bit by bit, and I fear that one day it will be lost to a frost that shall never be thawed. Please, Cecil, listen to yourself. When you speak, who do you hear? Yourself? Or the armor?”
Cecil, after a long pause: “The king.”
Rosa: “…So you say. But you are your own man, Cecil. Speak for the king if you must. I only ask that you think for yourself as well. The old Cecil would. The true Cecil.”
Cecil: “...”
Other convo? Or the same with a bridge?
Rosa: "Does your heart not cry out for these people? Do your eyes not ache with sympathy?"
Cecil: "Of course they do-"
Rosa: "Then why do you not listen? Why do you insist upon following this course? Why ignore the feeling born from your very core?"
Cecil, trying to convince himself as much as he is Rosa: "Because the heart is not the only place from which one should make decisions. It is at war with my mind, and much as I would like to listen to it, as much as I have listened to it in the past, I cannot ignore what I know to be right. I cannot ignore my King’s words. He has given me orders, told me to look for our enemies to keep our people safe, and it is my duty as both son and knight to listen. It is for the good of Baron. For the good of its citizens, you chief among them. What if in bowing to my heart I invite disaster? Decisions must be made by logic, and in this case my mind is set. I must listen to it. I cannot afford the travesty that might result were my softness to harm us."
Rosa:" You limit yourself. Wound yourself. You are fading, Cecil, and every day I see you I fear I’ve lost another part of the man I grew to love. If you continue to chip away at what makes the man I once knew, one day there will be nothing left. Who will protect me then? A man? Or an empty husk?"
Cecil: "Rosa-"
Rosa: "I must take my leave. I’ve dallied far too long; I promised to tutor one of the new mages at the tenth bell, and it rang out some few minutes ago. I hope you take what I’ve said to heart, Cecil. I know it still exists somewhere down there. You need only find it."
(she leaves).
(note: cecil absolutely places his heart first, but he's trying so hard to be an impassive/impartial judge that he's overcompensating. If it came down to it, and in Mist when it DOES come down to it, he would absolutely bow to his heart, no matter how much he claims to value reason.)
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how much do you think tristamp vash is going to hate himself for even thinking that if he hadn't convinced wolfwood to spare livio on the sandsteamer, maybe wolfwood wouldn't have had to die
#trigun spoilers#trigun#trigun stampede#bee talks#in shock and grief you think things you would usually not think#even if he knows how important livio is to wolfwood#which is why he'd hate himself for even thinking it#sorry don't worry I am miserable too#i know there's the thing that livio did die and is going to be brought back#but you know maybe if wolfwood had been the one to kill him and he hadn't fallen overboard the eom wouldn't have gotten his body back
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actually i kind of hated the ending of tout le bleu du ciel. "dénouement d'une grande beauté" mon cul
#i went on goodreads to see if anyone agrees with me as i always do when i don't like a book#and was alarmed to see that people are reading this in translation. i can only imagine how much worse the redundancy/overexplanation#is for someone who is not immersed in the french literary tradition#this is normal to the french you have to understand. you have to let them restate everything three times. it's like making sure#a goldfish has a big enough aquarium. but then apparently the translation did not abridge any of that#which i guess makes sense but come on. no one who is not french wants to read that#and imho even allowing for the french literary tradition this book was really going overboard with it. to the extent that it felt like#maybe the author just thought we were too stupid to get the really obvious points she was making. no we got it. you can move on#anyway that has nothing to do with the ending except in that i was really hoping the ending would blow me out of the water#because i had been pretty bored for a lot of this 840-page book but was like idk maybe we're going somewhere interesting with it#but no we're just being cliched and predictable and ignoring what i found most promising and kind of undercutting the female lead#french#books#my posts#now i gotta pick my next book but i can't decide. none of the fiction is really calling to me at the moment#i think i might actually read the 15th-century poetry this time lads#also i just looked up villon to make sure i had the century right and wikipedia says#Modern French: [fʁɑ̃swa vijɔ̃]; Middle French: [frãːˈswɛ viˈlõː]#so you're telling me in modern french we just ignore that he pronounced the l's in his name as [l]???#rude
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Oh god, see now I’m scared I made Felix a little too sadistic in this AU. GET THIS MAN AWAY FROM ME, OLIVER DOESN’T STAND A CHANCE.
#babygirl im sorry#oliver deserves a win after this#i need to write subby felix after this fic#did i go overboard???maybe#do i regret? absolutely not#daff writes
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@gregorsmissingarmor your girlies too 😌✨I couldn’t just draw one… had to include the whole crew ^^
(I feel like their horns express their character, so I gave them all unique ones. Ik they’re clone but oh well… maybe they alter/train them at a young age like some plants yk)
#couldn’t help myself#✨women✨#mynock#Stray#grim#mantle#Zipp#Clone ocs#not my ocs#Did I go overboard? Maybe…#i regret nothing#hehe
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