I commissioned the AMAZING @crownleys for Tobias for pride and I just love him so much <33333 THANK YOU AGAIN LOVELY HUMAN

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I commissioned the AMAZING @crownleys for Tobias for pride and I just love him so much <33333 THANK YOU AGAIN LOVELY HUMAN
so I commissioned the most wonderful @hadrassians for Tobi and Adam again (because I had to) and ISN'T IT WONDERFUL? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Thank you again, wonderful human being!!!
F caught this snap at some point; a rare soft moment with Adam du Mortain. I love them so much!
Breaking the Yearlings, Adam du Mortain x Detective (the reincarnation AU)
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“My father was once a sellsword,” Tobias tells Adam one night, after a long day at the reaping. He's bronzed by the sun, hair pulled gold, freckles drawn across the bridge of his nose. Tobias' father'd fought in wars abroad and at home, but was dead before the Norman duke came to claim his throne, and Tobias had been too young to know him.
Instead he was raised by his mother and his uncle, working their fields until he came of age and took up his father’s sword.
We are more similar than you know, Adam almost says. He'd also grown up on his father’s land, reaping barley and hay in the last of the summer sun. He was also once a sellsword’s son, the duke's farmer-knight, an ocean and a war away.
He doesn't say it. Instead they sit together, knees touching, at the long tables have been pulled into the courtyard, the ale and the wine flowing, sweetened by the effort as much as honey. He can't find the words. He often lacks them for this, for him.
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As I'm slowly but steadily bringing Breaking the Yearlings to a close, I wanted to share this lovely commission of Adam and Tobi I got earlier this year from the amazing @rom3o - thank you again!!
...In that incomplete darkness he sees him, his swordsman, in his shirtsleeves and smiling. Quiet, but quick to laugh; his french as rough as his hands, marked with the calluses and scars of a life by the sword.
How that first night Adam invited him to his rooms, Tobias had entered slowly, cautiously, running his fingers over the fireplace mantle and then the carvings of the bedposts when all that Adam had wanted was for him to touch him, instead.
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I commissioned the forever wonderful @mariemarion for my OC Tobias, 'as he was' in Breaking the Yearlings. Thank you again, wonderful human being!! I love him so much!
(If you get a chance to commission Mariemarion, you gotta take it - so wonderful!)
-- Breaking the Yearlings
The detective's office has a large window that opens out to the rising forest, and seated in front of it, at the desk, his hair dark and curling and damp from a late shower, Adam sees—
He sees what he hadn't in the dark.
He sees what he missed in the detective's passport photo, blanched of all colour; he smells—what he'd dismissed in the woodsmoke of the fog, the pain of the spray and the thick taste of his own blood. A warmth that curls, sticky and honey sweet, around the man half-hidden by his overflowing in-tray, looking up at him with widening eyes.
“Tobias,” Adam hears himself say. He says it before he can introduce herself, his voice hoarse as if the breath had been punched out of him.
“Tobias-” he’s speaking the wrong tongue, something between old Norman and Old English, from another life. He doesn’t know what he must look like, the expression on his face. “I thought—I knew, that you were-”
“Adam,” Nate says, gently, in the same tongue, and suddenly he is beside him, his hand on his forearm, squeezing. “He cannot understand you like this.” He switches back to modern English. “He cannot understand you.”
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So I commissioned the wonderful and supremely talented @ladiemars for Tobias and Adam from my reincarnation!AU Breaking the Yearlings and I do not! Have the words! God, I love them so much; this is AMAZING.
Some crops under the cut because!!!!
Breaking the Yearlings
Adam du Mortain, and 900 years.
There are men running through the trees, running from him. A blade is in his hands, heavy and bloodied, and Adam wipes the blood from his mouth and staggers forward again, towards the keep, where he can already hear the alarm bells sounding.
He is a storm that all of their walls and their lies and their alliances cannot withstand. He is an entity unto himself - their fate, perhaps - and the irony is as sharp and painful as the grief that is swallowing him whole.
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(There had been an offer — a hand at the back of his neck, a voice in his ear: “Choose.” An ending, or a new beginning. One at the loss of the other, and each one, permanent.
The grip at his neck had been cold, immovable, no matter how he’d struggled. The man who was not a man waited, too quiet and too still, nails digging into the tender skin above his pulse.
“I choose— ” Adam managed eventually, through the thunder of his heartbeat and the rush of his blood. “I choose — vengeance.”
He felt the man’s smile, long and sharp. And then he wrenched Adam’s head to the side and tore the life from him, gifting him with something else, instead.)
Read more here.
Art commissioned from the amazing @wwsans - I am absolutely in LOVE with it, thank you again, wonderful person!!
Commissioned the amazing @klodwig for an oil painting style portrait of a character from a personal project, and they went above and beyond - I am absolutely in love, thank you again, wonderful human being!!
This is the dear doctor, a melancholy romantic who gives his heart away too easily and suffers for it. It’s self-inflicted. He knows that. Maybe he’ll accept it someday, too.
Now go commission Klodwig!!
Commissioned from the absolutely fantastic @radiant-pie (thank you again, wonderful person, I am in love).
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