#(Read more for length)

[normalbrothers]

i'm going crazyinsane- what's your opinion on TommyJohn as a ship? does it work for you like TommyArthur? not like the same exact vibe cause TommyArthur is a whole beast of their own- but do you find Tommy and John shippable or even mildly intriguing? :)

nothing exactly, i'm sorry. i can't really fathom a scenario where they would work for me - though never say never, sometimes there's an angle that i haven't considered yet but am willing to entertain if it comes to me at the right time lol

for all that tommy loved john - he was his little brother & felt responsible for him - i don't think he ever considered him that much on his own. like he's the Kid Brother - though they share the experience of having served as soldiers which distinguishes him from poor even less considered finn - and that is all there is for tommy; i'm hard pressed to believe he would be capable of growing any romantic or sexual interest for john, they lack the enmeshment where this could possibly develop. john would have been too young pre-canon, and by the time canon takes place it's too late and tommy is mostly preoccupied with other things than to build any kind of greater intimate relationship with one of the non-arthur brothers.

john is more attached to arthur - despite the age difference they tend to be on the same wavelength, they also work and spend a lot of time together (it's a bit like the flipside to tommy and ada who have a few more things in common and it's what allows them to be as close as they are) - but it seems like he does seek tommy's approval or attention at times, though i can't always find myself reading more into it than there is: kid brother wanting to be seen by the person in the family who's generally appraised as a kind of emotional authority and is also the driving engine behind the family's success, besides that he outranked him and arthur during the war and at least for some time this is also what, in their eyes, ensured their survival, with tommy as their commanding officer. there's a lot to look up to, here. what's interesting, i think, is the jealousy john displays when tommy reinstalls arthur as back in charge after he gets out of prison in s2 - he's clearly unhappy about being demoted again, both in the gang hierarchy but also by being put back into the secondary kid brother role. especially glaring because john does pretty well (maybe better than arthur atp) while arthur's locked up, he very much proved himself then. there's more to say to this, but i think it's what informs, partially, john's temper tantrum in s3 and there are especially moments where it's clear that he's trying to undermine arthur, he's rather mean to him throughout the season (also his smug face when tommy takes his side during the changretta situation lmao) and by the time season 4 rolls around they do seem somewhat estranged to me, at the very least john has nothing really nice to say about him at that point, though the circumstances are factoring into that as well.

i think you could argue that john has more complicated and confused feelings, but i don't think they ever manifested into concrete and considered desires. maybe confused wank sessions as a teenager, but i think this would extend towards both tommy and arthur in some capacity; not that he wants to be actively part of *this* but the exclusion also doesn't feel right ... my beloved pet headcanon here is that he has a thing for going after lanky freckled redheads and small, robust brunettes with large blue eyes, .

probably not the answer you wanted to hear, but i'm not capable of seeing it in a different way right now

[dick-meister]

The absolute deconstruction of Adam’s mental in UC verse has me feeling a bunch of ways.

Like, he started out hopeful, trying his hardest to work things out with Lucifer and Lilith and actually did! They were having a good bit of fun and at one point Lucifer started to catch the tiniest bit of feelings for Adam. He talked to Roo for the first time in a long time to which he made amends for things between them as well.

Feeling good and having trust in them, Adam was fully prepared to go and talk to Sera and get an audience for all of them to talk about G’s plans but funnily enough, Adam’s own superior wouldn’t hear him out and locked him away for an amount of time he wasn’t even sure of. There he was bombarded by memories of himself and of Eve that tortured him pretty much.

At the time, he was feeling like the people of Hell were a lot better than those in Heaven only on the sheer fact that they listened to him and would listen to him. However after being broken out of the white room, everything changed dramatically. Lilith approaching Adam and trying to get him angry just so he could kill her in said anger, while around Lucifer, messed him up on the inside. He knew she was right on some levels but how it was done was just… wrong and left him literally beaten and half dead. Where else was he supposed to go after that but home?

Home, where he was now a fugitive if spotted by anyone who worked for the council as Sera had never allowed him to leave the White Room and if found, he would have been sentenced to fall. Only to just… lie on the ground for a day, bleeding and being alone up until Charlie was ported to him by G himself as a test to see if Charlie would finish him off right then and there. The sad thing is, looking back on it now, Adam would have preferred her to do so.

There was a bit of regained hope for him at that time, talking to Charlie and taking care of her made him feel a little better in a way that he wasn’t so alone. But there was a growing feeling of abandonment that was quickly getting bigger and bigger.

Eventually, Charlie leaves back to Hell, Lute tells him of Sera wanting to summon him after an accidental slip of the tongue and they ditch to Hell together. At least at the Hotel he got some time to rest, however that wouldn’t take long to be disrupted, learning of Charlie’s death, then having to fight Charbringer and eventually give up fighting her knowing that it was wrong to do so and he died.

Adam still remembers feeling the pain of death, being dead and his soul slipping away. Even though, somehow it was reverted and Lute took his place in his stead to which he had to watch Lute die, and then watch Charlie die in his arms…

After that, he buried Lute and just gave up. Adam went home and felt nothing. He’s lost so much and when looking around himself for who he had, who was he supposed to go to for help? He didn’t view himself as anything but a joke to everyone, someone to pin blame to, someone to leave in the background. Of course Angela tried to console him, but he wanted people who knew him to help him, love him, because those who don’t know him say the wrong things, make assumptions and cause him to feel even more lonely and wrong.

His mentality at this point was so shattered that when Eve, who is absolutely alive, showed up. He thought she was just a figment of his imagination, more White Room BS who helped a little but once he left to see Emily and found out that Sera had passed in battle, he found that he really couldn’t feel anything towards it. He felt bad for Emily, but the feelings of it was all light and on the surface.

Once he got home, that’s when he made the decision, if he was doomed to be nothing more than a after thought then he would just go back to being the villain he once pushed himself past. It’s the only way he knew how to cope and it’s not like anyone was coming around to help him anyways, it was either the mask or lay on the floor until the Cycle ended and he couldn’t sit back and do that.

He’s come full circle, and that’s really sad but also an incredibly interesting character ‘development’ that’s happened over time. I thought Adam would end up being a hero through this story, showing off bravery, selflessness and care but… this has all gone so against him that he just can’t feel those things anymore or much of anything.

UC is…. Not great for Adam lol

[ravendruid]

Acts of Service

Keyleth was exhausted. Every inch of her body hurt like hell, new dull red scars joined the soft white, old ones on her skin, and she was covered in blood and guts. Thankfully, most of it wasn’t hers. Her hair was a mess of tangles, sticks and other debris, and her scalp had dried blood caking on it, making it incredibly itchy. On top of it all, she reeked. She desperately needed a bath, but she had no strength left in her to wash her long, curly hair, much less to detangle it and give it the proper care it needed. Keyleth was barely capable of supporting herself on her staff. Her right leg felt like it was about to cave with the pain of an almost fully healed broken tibia—thank the gods for Pike’s healing magic—as she crossed the large entryway of the mansion. Blue spectral servants came out from the shadows with towels, food and drinks, but Keyleth only had one thing in mind: a bathtub. She gingerly crossed the room, avoiding every living and non-living being, towards the stairs, and she was about to set her foot on the first step when a pair of arms surrounded her waist and pulled her back.

“Let me help you.”

Vax’ildan was equally a mess. He had a few visible scars on his face and hands and a few not-so-visible ones on his chest and thighs. His fingernails were dirty, and although Keyleth couldn’t see it very well, she knew his hair was just as tangled and caked with blood as hers. But he was in better shape than her, with all his bones fully intact, and Keyleth was seriously tired, so she allowed Vax to pick her up and carry her up the stairs toward their bedroom. 

Silence fell between the two, only broken by the clanking of Keyleth’s wooden staff falling on the wooden floor and the click of the bedroom door closing behind them. As Vax crossed the bedroom decorated with plants and herbs of all kinds (Keyleth still wasn’t sure how Scanlan had been able to do that, but she loved it nonetheless), Keyleth said a silent thank you to the gnome for always making sure the rooms were at the right temperature and the bathtubs filled with nice warm water, which was precisely where Vax was taking her. Keyleth took the moment of proximity to take in the sight properly. Vax’s face was closed in exhaustion, eyes sunken and dark circles underneath them, yet, there was a softness to her boyfriend that she couldn’t discern, as if Vax had only one thing on his mind. Whatever it was, it was his most well-kept secret.

No matter how many times Keyleth had seen Vax’ildan’s calloused hands hold blade after blade, take lives like one cuts a flower from its stem, and throw daggers accurate to their target with an accuracy she had never seen before, it never surprised her how soft they could also be, so gentle when removing her headpiece, undoing buttons and laces with a dexterity she was oh-so-jealous of, and peeling off the layers of dirt and blood smeared clothes off her body until she was bare before him. Not once she felt ashamed of her body, not even of the tiny scars that dot her skin, nor the beauty marks and stretches of her muscles. Vax always eyed her body with the reverence of a zealot, making her feel like the most beautiful being in existence. 

Vax wasn’t as gentle with his own garments, though. He tugged harshly at his strings and almost ripped his seams apart in desperation to rid himself of the weight of the cotton fabric. The only pieces he handled as carefully as he handled Keyleth’s clothes were his boots and armor, often set aside as soon as he entered the bedroom. However, because he had been carrying Keyleth, who was sitting on the edge of the tub, absent-mindedly playing with the warm water as she observed her boyfriend, the boots were instead resting by the bathroom door, and the Deathwalker’s Ward had carefully been placed on the floor by her antlers.

Vax knew Keyleth’s hair-washing routine like the back of his hand. It wasn’t much different than his, wash and condition, but Keyleth’s hair took longer and needed more thoroughness. He started by rinsing the blood away and picking at the larger pieces of debris and twigs. Then he washed it with her lavender-scented soap, making sure to reach the nook and crannies of her knots and to really rub it in her scalp. Keyleth could fall asleep like that, with Vax combing his hands through her hair and his fingers massaging her head. She almost dozed off and let her head fall in front of her, but she was shaken awake by the movement. Vax just chuckled as he rinsed the soap from her hair and pressed soft kisses to the back of her shoulders. 

Keyleth was so appreciative of him. She knew how hard it was to manage wild hair like hers, a genuine depiction of roaring flames, contrary to Vax’s soft, manageable raven hair. She was even more appreciative when Vax took the time to comb out her knots and whatever was left of monster guts and leaves as the conditioner sat in. He was gentle with the comb, trying not to pull on her hair and making sure he was holding the back of her head to aid him. Once tangle-free, Vax rinsed Keyleth’s hair a third time and added a special shea butter Keyleth had crafted, making sure to massage it through her entire hair, especially the ends. 

“Hmmm,” Keyleth leaned back against his chest. He was warm from the water, and his skin felt good and soft on her back. 

Vax didn’t allow Keyleth to relax for long, though. Soon he grabbed a loofah and lathered soap on it to scrub the dirt off Keyleth’s skin without a word. The silence between them was never uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, sometimes Keyleth felt like it was more meaningful than words. As much as she wanted to lean in and feel Vax’s arms wrap around her torso, Keyleth allowed her boyfriend to scrub the blood and dirt away. He was gentle but firm, leaving her skin with a pinkish tone from the roughness of the loofah but never hurting her. 

Once Keyleth was pristine and the bath water magically changed for the tenth time, Vax started working on his hair, rinsing it with the warm water. Were this a different day where Keyleth wasn’t trying her best to keep her eyelids from closing as she sat in the tub, she would offer—no, demand—to wash Vax’s hair for him. As it was, Keyleth simply turned her body enough to look at him and follow the movements of his muscled torso as he raised his arms above his head and lathered soap, as he rinsed off the blood and dirt, and as Vax used her conditioner (she had lost count at how many times she had seen him do that, yet it still amused her every time) on his tangled mess. Keyleth was in awe at the speed and dexterity of Vax’s fingers combing the debris of his own hair faster and with rougher movements than he had used on her curls. In the blink of an eye, the comb effortlessly passed through his dark strands. He skipped the nourishing butter, and for that, Keyleth cursed him internally. Not once had she seen him use it, yet his hair was softer than silk. Stupid elven genes. He clearly had gotten the better end of that deal.

“Enjoying the show?” Vax’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, bringing her down from her high of relaxation. Keyleth just nodded, not really having the strength to speak coherent sentences. Vax still understood her perfectly well, just the same.

When Vax grabbed his loofah and started washing his body, the corners of Keyleth’s mouth curled up slightly. No matter how tired she was, she would always enjoy admiring Vax’s toned body, especially following the movement of his hands across his muscles. Only when Keyleth followed Vax’s hands with her gaze did she notice the new scars on his chest and stomach, barely larger than a copper coin, their redness visible against the white of his older scars. She loved counting them, kissing each and every one when she rested her head on his chest every night. Sometimes she would ask him about their stories, and Vax would concede to telling her. Other times he would avoid the answer, cradling his fingers through her hair to distract her. Keyleth didn’t mind it. She had her own battle scars that she wasn’t proud of either.

As her mind drifted off to a faraway land of hopefully good dreams and her eyelids closed, Keyleth missed Vax leaving the tub and wrapping himself in one of the soft, plush purple bathrobes Scanlan had mandated for each bathroom. It was only when she felt herself being lifted from the warm water that she opened one eye to see Vax’s Adam’s apple bobbing so close to her face. He looked yummy. If she wasn’t so exhausted, she wouldn’t hesitate to kiss and nibble on his neck. Even if she wasn’t able to put her thoughts into action, Keyleth’s arms and legs were still covered in goosebumps at the idea, a sign that Vax understood as her being cold (she was far from cold, inside and out, with Vax’s strong arms pressing her against his warm body, and the heat of her devilish thoughts warming her inside). 

“Here,” Vax stopped by the door, lowering Keyleth so she could stand on her feet. He grabbed the other robe and helped her put it on. “Better?”

Keyleth nodded in response. It’s not that she was cold before, but the glimmer in Vax’s eyes whenever he took care of her left Keyleth completely vulnerable to his wishes and requests. Her brain had shut down hours ago, and the warm bath and hair care had left her at Vax’s mercy, which is why she didn’t protest when he carried her to bed and helped her put on a soft pair of pajamas, completely ignoring her post-bath moisturizing routine. Vax knew about it, too, as he knew about her hair care routine. He had seen her countless times applying the lotion to herself and helped her on a few occasions, which led to more than moisturizing. Maybe that was why he didn’t offer to help her tonight. He knew she was exhausted—he was probably exhausted as well—and that Keyleth wouldn’t have any energy or desire for anything except sleep.

Keyleth was about to act on her wish to lie down when Vax stopped her with a shake of his head. To her surprise, he grabbed her hairbrush and sat behind her, promptly working on brushing and untangling any knots left. He was going all out to pamper her, which could only mean one thing: Vax was feeling guilty for something, but he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. She allowed him to brush her hair until it was silky soft (her head increasingly falling in front of her from exhaustion) and braid it just like he always did every night, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her head when he finished.

“Sleepy?” Vax asked, getting up from behind her and peeling off the robe that pooled at his feet. With his back to her, Keyleth had a full view of the scar between his shoulder blades, the one she had given him. It wasn’t as old as the others, nor as white. It wasn’t pretty either, but it was hers. Her mark on his body. 

“Keek?” Vax turned his head above his shoulders, catching her fixed gaze on his back as he slid one foot down one leg of his loose pants. Keyleth looked up at him, cheeks flushed from having been caught staring.

“Are you looking at my ass?”

Keyleth threw her head back in laughter. Only Vax could make her cackle when she was exhausted and sore. He joined her in bed, lying down and pulling her up to rest her head on his chest once her giggling subsided. Keyleth allowed her fingers to roam his scars, tracing patterns on his skin until she reached one of the new scars. She rose slightly, only enough to press her lips to it. Then she followed her fingers until the next scar and a third one, pressing feather-light kisses to each one. Vax was already looking at her lovingly when their gaze met, and his smile almost made her melt against him. 

“I love you,” Vax whispered as Keyleth settled back on his chest and closed her eyes.

“I love you.”

Vax’s nails found Keyleth’s scalp, lulling her to sleep. She cursed him internally for knowing just the right buttons to push to get what he wanted but, at the same time, Keyleth thanked her boyfriend for being so gentle and caring, for having so much patience to deal with her and her issues (like her wild hair and insecurities), and for making her feel so light and relaxed after a stressful day.

[Read it on AO3]

[helluva-hazbins]

@voodoodaaddy  asked:

😈 (to Lucifer)

Without much warning the taller of the two men has leaned down and the next thing felt by the Daemon Lord is the swift sense of sharpened teeth sinking into sensitive suppleness of he own fleshy cheek. The shock leads to disapproving annoyance if only due to being touched in any way without permission having been granted. Brows are quick to furrow, tightly knitting together before the setting of the hotel reoccurs to him. Not wanting to cause any more of a scene then what was needed he switches his demeanor, strategicly.

The laugh that results is forced and chest heavy. "Uh, Charlieeee, Charlie, dear, you didn't warn me this man was feral. Seriously, did you pick him up off the streets, you know I've warned you about your bleeding heart for strays." he looks around with a strained smile.

Once that was out of the way, he slowly turns back to the one so DARING to have touched royalty. His expression much darker and tone low, threatening; as he leans in tightly against the man. "Tell me, bell boy, at what juncture did you find this course of actions wise~?" the look in his eyes grows crazed, the serpent within slithering forward with a looming aura and he grins "I knew it. I knew there was something under that phony-ass, cheshire mask. Just couldn't help yourself, coulda ya?" The apple topped cane has been wedged against Alastor's chest, hard, the force only growing in pressure, it began to flicker menacingly and glow with a scarlet radiance.

"Enticing, right? Precious apple cheeks on this pocket-sized, doe-eyed, muppet face. Bet'cha got your jollies off. Oh, pal. buddy. You may have Charlie fooled but you just exposed more than you realize and you can BET that makes you MY bitch now!" eyes blazed and bore into the reddened irises and sclera glaring directly back into his, unwavering.

[iudcx]

wcrden asked:

he doesn't show for a couple of days; neither at neuvillette's home, nor the palais mermonia, though should he inquire with any meropide staff, they are likely to inform that all is well, the duke just happens to be horrendously busy due to a number of individually tame incidents cropping up at once.

He was happy to hear, at the very least, that the matters that tied Wriothesley's hands to the fortress were not too dire. The matter of work keeping them busy was something that was to be expected in their professions and in the coming years, he expected such incidents to happen more frequently than not. Cases that would require more of the iudex's attention or matters of the fortress that would have its Duke unable to leave. He would never expect to take precedent over work just like he never expected Wriothesely to ask him to drop all of his and pay attention to him.

Still, absolutely no harm would come from him visiting him, just to see if he was doing well.

The sun was very low on the horizon when he descended the stairs to the underwater station and by the time he arrived at the fortress' front doors, it would have long descended as well. He made himself known to the guards and the front clerk and informed them he was here for a meeting with the Duke. He didn't need an escort as he was well aware where his office was and made his way as inconspicuously as he could to its main doors. They opened with their usual tired, metallic groan and Neuvillette expected at least some sort of acknowledgment from the overhead office but when he was met with silence, he grew curious.

Quietly, he ascended, finding a Wriothesley now deep in slumber hunched over his desk, surrounded by paperwork and documents he usually didn't find him in. He stared, bewildered for a moment but soon quietly approached and a soft sigh escaped his lips. It didn't seem like he was taking care of himself as well as he had hoped and if anything indicated his exhaustion, it was that he had fallen asleep so early and amidst work. It wouldn't do to wake him and to scold him, it wouldn't do to just let him sleep hunched over his desk either. Neuvillette crouched before him and pondered, watch his peaceful, sleeping features and came to a conclusion; he would make sure he slept through the night and have a peaceful morning before returning to work, dealing with his tasks with a clear and level head.

He picked him up, carefully and with all the care in the world and cradled him in his arms. If he awoke while moved, he didn't indicate and the dragon took that to mean he was fine to proceed. He brought him into his cramped and small cabin, laid him on his bed and began to pull the most uncomfortable clothing off of him; his boots, his chains, unwrapping his bandages lest he roll over too restlessly in bed and tightened them and left him only with his shirt and his trousers. Then, he repeated the same for himself and laid down next to him, turning the duke around so he could face him. He doubted he was still truly and deeply asleep, knowing just how much of a light sleeper he was but at the very least he still seemed to be dozing. Neuvillette smiled, brushed his hair off his forehead and pressed his lips gently against his, a kiss that was a feather's touch, meant to assure his sleeping mind rather than wake and he wrapped his arm around his middle.

❝Rest well, my beloved.❞

[heroftruth]

Guidelines -

General. I am multiverse, not timeline locked, duplicate friendly, and multiship. 'Main verse' indicates the black canon with Hilda being Reshiram's chosen. Interactions within this are flexible! I will interact with multiples of characters, same world, your world, etc. Other verses such as my white verse follow white canon and have Hilda as Zekrom's chosen. This was created specifically for instances where canons conflict with other unova characters.

If something conflicts, just shoot me a message. I guarantee you I will not be upset and will be completely open to developing a solution.

Messaging. If we are mutuals you can dm me and ask for my discord. If you have a plot idea, interaction idea, something to share, or even just a meme or pet pic you can dm me anytime. I like to share pet pics with people if they are cool with it myself lol.

Ships. Romantic relationships exist within their own verses and I will only romantically ship with one of each character. For example, there is a ship of Hilda and twilighttheater's Red, so I won't romantically ship with another Red but am absolutely open to other dynamics with other Reds. Everyone brings something different to their characters.

Duplicates. I am completely open to interacting with other Hilda/Hilbert/bw protag muses. It's fun to see how things differ to me. Events, other plots, & AUs. I generally do not reference events or other plots with people unless they were in that event or were a part of/going to be a part of that plot just out of respect. If we both did an event and we want to go back to something with it or reference it I am chill with that and will tag the event for those that weren't a part of it to filter. Same goes with plots like Ghetsis overtaking Unova for example, people involved in it are welcome to interact with it & I will tag. I do this out of respect for people's lore and also to allow filtering. Same goes for Royal Ball AU with friends and my friends' Ultra Space campaign. Events, specific plots, and AUs are tagged for filtering and accessibility. Triggers. I am a healthcare worker in emergency medicine. I love talking about emergency medicine and don't mind sharing knowledge at all with people for writing purposes. I don't mind writing illnesses and injuries. However, narrative descriptions of things like cardiac arrests, cpr, and death are triggering due to ptsd from working the pandemic. It's one of those things I can talk about from a science aspect but can not write or read descriptions of it happening. I will always tag 'tw medical' for anything medical and always am willing to add trigger tags to anything if needed for others.

[vixlenxe]

"Lumière étoiles..." Compared to the busy voices filling Mehryde's Meyhane, this one was a soft one, but one oh so familiar to the star elezen of the day. Ivy's gaze turned away from her sister & friends at her table, towards that voice, eyes bright with the buzz of the day & the atmosphere.

"Haurchefant!" Ivy beamed as the man in question made his way around the table, hands hidden entirely behind his back. "There you are, I was looking for you this morning!" She already knew something was up when the man was not in their bed in the sunrise, the hands behind his back just confirmed it more in her mind. "What did you do silly? Is that for me?"

The knight just laughed, sometimes not being able to hide anything from each other spoiled surprises, other times, it just made him love her more. It was hard to tell which feeling won today. "Of course it is." He admitted. "Tis your nameday, after all, & I of all people can not be caught lacking." Haurchefant's honesty also served to make her laugh, in which he decided to simply show what he hide behind his back, little point is hiding it any longer.

It was a delicate black box, long rather then wide. A inscription imprinted upon it in golden lined lettering, that Ivy knew to be her name, but not quite the one she knew all her life. 'Ivy de Foretmps'. The sight of it make Ivy's ear stand up in attention, ocean eyes wide in excitement. She knew a pricy gift when she saw it, & though the both of them knew Ivy didn't need anything expensive, they also both knew that when they did turn their eyes to something pricy, they took special attention to details.

"Happy Nameday, Ivy. Please, open it."

"Right now?" It was only a joking ask, she was more then happy to open it now, gently taking the box from him. She took a moment to admire the engraving. Ivy de Foretmps... they were yet to be fully married, but it was at times hard to believe she could call herself that. A Foretmps & a Quenderlain.

But the real prize laid inside. And Ivy knew whose hands had been all over this gift when she saw it, but it would be pushed into the back of her head for later. For now, there was only the widening of her eyes & the the slightly slacking of her jaw. A dark blue stain lining with light blue & gold dots adoring it, comfortably cushioning the treasure within. Gold plated chains, with extras designed elegantly to hang graciously, held to the main chain by white freshwater pearls, in a boast of love eternal. It was elegant, but hardly over the top. Simple, but not so simple as to be plain.

Ivy mouth hung open still when the coo she made at the sight of the gift. Delighted & entranced.

"Haurchefant... it's... it's beautiful." And she knew what this gift meant. She was familiar of the symbol of the pearl, hard not to be with how eagerly the newest Quenderlain would yap about them as any possible connivence. And oh, how it made her smile. "Thank you. I love it!" She beamed proudly, shooting up from her seat & wrapping her arms around his neck to embrace him, holding the necklace's box seedy in her hands.

"Haha! You're more then welcome, mon armor. I knew you would." And Haurchefant was all the eager to return the gesture. Smiling tenfold at his beloved starlight's delight. He knew the right one when he saw it, & by The Fury, it felt good to be right. It know he knew his bride inside & out. "May I?" He named when they pulled away, making a gesture to the necklace.

"... Yes, please." Ivy quickly turned the box towards her groom, letting his gently plunk the necklace from it's gorgeous resting place. "Turn around for me, Lumière étoiles." And thus, Ivy does, watching slowly as the necklace comes down before her, resting against the base of her neck. The knight working carefully to fasten the beautiful pearl onto where it belongs.

"There." Smile reborn anew on his face. Haurchefant watched in delight & love blossoming all the new in his eyes, as Ivy spun once more to face him, seeing the symbol of eternal love, his eternal love, resting there. A ring, a woven bracelet, & now, a pearl.

"How does it look?" She asked.

"I was right, you do look... positively splendid in white, mon armor." So much so, he could kiss her, here & now, in front of everyone. As if this simple bar was an alter.

"Thank you, Haurchefant! Thank you so much." She's said her thanks already, but she will say it again. She can't help it, to be loved, & known, so well by someone. It was something she was endlessly thankful for. "I love it & I love you." And, as if Ivy had read Harucehfant's mind.

She trapped him in a kiss, hands cupping his cheeks & holding him for a long kiss, lovingly & passionate in one. One Haurcehfant was happy to just lose himself in for the moment. To simply be with the one to held the other half of his heart.

A show that made Tiffanie & the others within the bar smile. Tiffanie was used to this, but still, their love had ways to surprise her. And the other patrons felt it a adorable sight. A love so strong & bold & full, it was a rare sight even here in Thavaniar, & it should be honored.

[lightbringer-morningstar]

💔

☆ Headcanon Prompts ☆   Love and Romance

💔 = Has your muse ever been heartbroken? If so, explain what happened. 

Let's see, where to begin on this, Quite the loaded question, eh?

How many times can a heart break? In how many ways?

Lucifer is generally older than time immemorial as we know it so suffice to say he would be well acquainted with basic concepts such as heartbreak. Yeppers.

Let's have a look at the most notable instances, shall we~? His first true heart break, he would sight as the way the bonds with Adam, Eve, and Lilith all broke down, it was one of his first true collision with having been emotionally invested in a personal connection, a human way of connection that he had never felt before, truly intense. When the walls between all of them began to crumble he found himself at a loss, not knowing how to repair it all, or subsequently not knowing how to prevent it from further damage. After his friendship with Adam and Eve was destroyed, his heart was already near shattered but that's when the other Angelic figures turned against Lucifer and his "meddling"; denouncing what he had caused with the "apple incident" and his crazy ideals, smiting him down and casting down into the pits of what would be Hell. Yes, his heart was broken, yet again by this, namely by Michael, someone Lucifer was closer to than he'd ever care to admit. The one he hadn't seen coming, a true, pure betrayal. His heart fractured beyond anything he could have imagined at that point. But he decided to attempt to carry on, with his beloved Lilith, the one human he had risked everything for, the one who had stayed by his side. While reforming the layers of Hell to his own imaginings and furthering the bonds with the other six sins, declaring them the Fantastical Seven Deadly Sins band of performers, together they moved forward, forming, not only their new family but also the beginning conceptualization of the Seven Rings of Hell! All was well until, the other sins, for one reason or another, began to squabble amongst one another and expression their wants and needs to have their own space away from Lucifer's harsh leadership. And so, he would have to let them go, another heartbreaking experience, one that still pains him deeply that he does his best to keep under wraps. Then came the separation. After years of marriage, problems arose between himself and his treasured wife, Lilith. Now, he would openly say he didn't know what happened but, he does in-fact know, negligence, avoidance and irreconcilable differences, all playing their part. Heartbreak was an inevitability.

But the most recent would be from his very own hellspawn. During her teenage formative years his daughter became estranged from him, them not seeing eye to eye and Lucifer being not the best father with being disconnected at times, they had one final clash that shattered the King of Hell's remaining heart fragments practically to the very tiniest bits, he withdrew, not only from her world but seemingly from all of Hell, overall. Reclusive and out of the way.

Unburdening to anyone and safe from any more emotional strain...

[prismatig]

Persona 4 Verse

Name: Nix Shinko Persona: Inari Arcana: Strength Elements: Wind & Support

Much of Nix's general bio remains the same except for notable differences listed below!

Shortly after Nix was well enough to travel after the accident, they moved to Inaba with their family. This was to help Nix recover in peace, away from the press, and have a chance at obtaining some normalcy. They have been in Inaba since the age of 15 and now attend Yasogami as a second year.

While Nix currently accepts their identity of being Genderfluid, there is an internal struggle within that perhaps they are something else. Though with their life taking so many tragic turns in rapid succession, it has made it difficult for them to sort it all out.

How Nix appears on the television is due to a reporter from the city remembering them from the accident. This causes the reporter to make a story about the 'unsolved case' since there were rumors that someone sabotaged the stage on purpose. This sparks their appearance on the Midnight Channel as well.

Nix can be found in the Music Room, Samegawa Flood Plain, Classroom 2-2, and in Junes.

-Will make a separate post concerning the dungeon!-

[chcngenation]

tell me you feel the same way. tell me you want what i want. please. -Alistair to Kathryn

She brought him here, to this part of the old mountain. When she saw Arl Eamon's words weighing heavier and heavier on his shoulders, Kathryn had taken his hand and guided him through the castle like she knew it well. She did know it well, far better than she should. She'd asked if he knew the legend of Dragon's Peak, the mountain Denerim sits at the base of. The mountain that spewed fire in legends, and smoke reigned supreme over the Free March's from it. Andraste's mountain, Kathryn had called it as a girl. That was when it had last cried out into the world.

Alistair had made a joke about the ugly mountain being stained. A deflection, always a deflection with him, hiding behind humour. "Until Fereldan's last king dies." She had said, and Alistair had known. Known what she had already decided for tomorrow. Known what she was getting at. He had appealed to her, begged, asked her to tell the Landsmeet to crown Anora. The people were with Kathryn Cousland, not with Loghain Mac Tir. The Grey Warden, not the Teyrn of Gwaren.

"Alistair- Alistair -" She says, taking his hands from her face, holding them in tight grips in her own. "I know you don't want it. Yes, I do feel the same way, I do want what you want, I would love nothing more than just be a Grey Warden with you, but that is not how this is going to go." She takes a breath, guiding him to breathe with her, because she was not staying a Grey Warden.

"I agree, Anora is more than capable, certainly more capable than Cailan was. She is not of Theirin blood. Theirin blood has been Fereldan's only true royal blood, all the way from Calenhad, from the very founding of this country, and even so she is the last of her own line. The realm will dissolve into civil war upon her death because she cannot produce a child. Five years, and not one quickening. Not one loss. Not one. Who takes it after she dies? Couslands? That would be me! My father, brother, and nephew are dead, and I was far more likely to succeed our father. Once that Archdemon is dead, I will reclaim my family's title and home, I will need to marry anyway, I do not intend to be the last of my line! And who after me if I stay a Grey Warden? Eamon? Connor, with his Orlesian blood? Arl Gell? Arl Gallagher? One of those Drydens, your distant relatives who tried to coup King Arland? Ridiculous, all of it. I am avoiding further war. I am avoiding further bloodshed with this decision."

Her hands cover her heart, and she looks at Alistair for a long moment. "Eamon insisted I decide for you, made the presumption you would want to marry me. Said that you would probably like to marry me, find it to be a good consolation for crowning you, and it wouldn't even need a discussion. I have chosen to discuss this with you, I do not want to make you marry me if you do not wish to. I do not wish to trap you for ambition, it is not mine. I only want what is rightfully mine - Highever. If you are so adamant she be queen, I can make her your queen. I could arrange your marriage to her if you would prefer? She's beautiful, intelligent, and she knows how to rule, if I were a man, I would probably marry her." If you intend to claim your family seat, the nobles will all be upset if you marry a bastard, even if it's Maric's bastard. Make him king, silence all those who would be upset you married a bastard instead of an Arl. That's what Eamon had said, and Kathryn wonders then and now, how it would look on the outside now. If he fights hard enough for his freedom, and you gain your Teyrnship, you will need a noble husband, even if you keep the boy around.

The very idea tears Kathryn up inside. The very idea churns her belly, and she wonders - is this how Anora had felt when Kathryn had come to court for that brief time before Cailan packed up for Ostagar? When she had been instructed to catch his wandering eye? Was this her just punishment for doing just that?

Tears well in her eyes suddenly. "I'm not staying a Grey Warden. I never wanted to be one. If not for Duncan, I would have died in Highever, murdered, and I never would have met you, so I am grateful to him, and the joining. I still do not wish to be a Warden. I am going to reclaim what belongs to my family. I don't want you to stay a Grey Warden when I am not. I do not want you to go where I can't follow anymore. I want to set you up safe in a fucking castle, where you cannot be touched by Dark Spawn, or Warden bullshit. This is the only way I can. I'm sure Anora will willingly marry you, and be your queen. Tell me how much you want her to be queen, I will speak to her for you."

[shireentheunburnt]

The Priestess and the Princess

@westerosiqueens

Selyse tried to save her, and that was a comfort despite the terror coursing through her in ever-growing waves. Her father wasn't coming, but at least her mother had tried. With Ser Davos gone, no one else was going to. And how could she blame them, truly? Chances were they would be cast into the flames too and it was such a cruel way to die.

Regardless, the loyalty of more than a handful of Stannis' soldiers was going to ashes with her.

Her father had made himself a kinslayer in their eyes, one of the most unforgivable crimes in all of Westeros.

What was he thinking? To make a spectacle of her death like this? She was a Baratheon, death was never going to have her quietly nor easily... She was going to scream and struggle until the bitter end and he should have known it. He would have done better to have done this in private and then lie that the cold had taken her or some such.

How could he have done this to her? He said she belonged with him, as his heir, as his daughter.

Crying out as the flames reached terrible fingers towards her, the child's brow furrowed in confusion. It should hurt, should be agony, but it wasn't. It felt only warm and gentle... The ropes biting into her fell into the crackling orange and were consumed themselves, yet on the pyre she remained; frozen in bewilderment.

That was until she noticed her precious stag beginning to char and blacken. Gasping, she cradled it protectively to herself and took a few quick steps forward to save it from further damage. And then she, herself, was snatched up into an embrace.

Mother...

She managed to urge them a few paces from the reaching fire then burrowed in close and closed her eyes, breathing deeply of Selyse's scent as she would have done as a babe. It was soothing, as it was back then, and she hid into the older woman gratefully, not wanting to see her father, or his men, or the red woman who had smiled and gloated in the face of her fear...

She didn't think she had ever clutched to, nor been held by, her mother so tightly.

If she could stay right there all winter, she would be content to do so.

[shouyuus]

18+, vi-shaped brainrot, mdni

consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.

college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.

college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.

college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.

"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."

college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.

she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.

"well... fuck."

college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.

"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.

"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"

"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.

"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.

vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --

"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.

"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"

"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.

you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.

"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."

college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.

college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --

"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"

"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.

after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.

"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."

"out?"

"yeah. to celebrate."

you blink as vi pulls her hand away.

"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."

vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."

college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.

she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --

"come on! i wanna dance!"

college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --

college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --

but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.

college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --

"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"

"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"

it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.

"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.

"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.

"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."

vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.

"wait -- what? you..."

you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"

you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.

college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --

"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.

"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"

"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.

vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."

college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.

college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.

"all this for me, pretty?"

you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.

"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).

she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.

"nope, keep 'em open princess."

college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.

she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.

college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.

"what are you --"

you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.

"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"

college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.

"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"

she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.

"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."

vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.

"you're amazing, y'know that?"

college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).

who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --

"well, actually -- we started off as roommates."

[ravendruid]

Giving Gifts

Vex’ahlia has never loved the warmth of the sun more than she does as the heels of her boots clack on the sidewalk and the hem of her dress rustles the ground. It’s not rare to have bright, sunny days with light blue skies in Whitestone, but being so far north in the continent of Tal’Dorei, the cold is almost always a given, even in the summer, and the sun rays aren’t always warm enough to tinge anyone’s cheeks pink. Because Percival has spent the entire week deep in meetings to overlook the safety and development of Whitestone, Vex finds herself bored to death on several occasions since the clerics forbade her from setting foot in the meeting room with her watermelon-sized belly, lest she become too stressed and give birth too early. Instead of wasting away in the library, Vex has taken to spending the days taking short strolls through the castle gardens, admiring the beautiful flowers in bloom this time of the year and the intoxicating smell of roses in the air that, more often than not, bring back the nausea she felt during her first trimester. Some days she descends the long, winding path down to the city proper, where she peruses stores and establishments, stops to share words with her neighbors, and allows her legs to extend, always in the company of her fearless bear, Trinket.

During one of those strolls amongst the streets of Whitestone, Vex’ahlia finds herself at the window of a boutique with many pretty ballgowns on display (not that any of them would fit her current state). Something within her wills her to walk inside the small shop, so Vex asks Trinket to stay while a kind lady greets her. The shop isn’t massive—it is a smaller town, after all—but several mannequins wearing different types and colors of dresses adorn the room. Further back, just slightly past the counter, is a small section of male suits that Vex ponders over for a moment. Percy doesn’t usually shop for clothes at the boutique since the family has their own tailor, so Vex doesn’t spend too much time browsing them, but she has to admit a few of the suits would look fantastic on her husband. 

Just as Vex is turning to leave, something catches her eye at the counter. She feels herself being pulled towards a glass display case with a few pieces of jewelry inside, but what piques her curiosity is a pair of round silver cufflinks with a royal blue circle in the middle and a bear engraved. They remind her of Trinket, and Vex knows they will look perfect on the new jacket she just got Percy last week. Vex’ahlia buys the cufflinks without effort, and the lady places them in a small brown envelope that Vax keeps close to her heart—quite literally, as she somehow stuffs it in her cleavage with a wink. 

Vex’ahlia doesn’t dwell further in the city, so Trinket trots at her side as they make their way back to the castle. Excitement builds up inside her like a balloon, and she can’t wipe the smile on her face imagining Percy’s reaction to her impromptu gift. Vex won’t tell her husband how much she paid for the cufflinks, not because he would scold her for spending the money, but because she knows he will tease her until the end of the world about how she never bargains when it concerns him. As much as Vex has tried telling Percy that it feels wrong to take from people who have had so much taken away from them already, they both know she would not hesitate to bargain for something for herself. 

You are worth every copper, dear. Percy always tells her with that soft voice that drives her insane. So are you, darling. Vex always replies in the same manner. They still have a long path to walk, but she knows in her heart that they will both get there one day, together, as it is their wont.

—

Percival de Rolo is not the same man that once walked these long hallways. At this moment, he is an exhausted man whose mind swirls with thoughts, plans, and formulas for myriad contraptions and necessities to keep the city and its people safe. The back-to-back meetings have drained his resources, but he knows they are necessary since the Chamber has been discussing and planning the expansion of Whitestone. But all Percy—as his friends call him—can think about is his wife and her rounded belly that still grows larger as months go by. Percy wants to advance as much work as possible before the baby arrives because once the little one is screaming their lungs out, Percy has no intention of spending every waking moment surrounded by work. It pains him, though, not to be able to spend time with Vex’ahlia. They both know it’s for the best, but Percy’s guilt is still heavy on his conscience. 

By some miracle of a god Percy doesn’t care for, one of the town developers he was supposed to meet that morning fell ill, which means he now has a free morning with plenty of time to work on the project he has been keeping a secret from Vex. He sneaks into the basement area—not that he needs to since he knows Vex is probably out in the gardens or strolling through town like the free bird she is—and locks himself in his workshop. The project is almost done. If Percy pushes through during lunch hours, he should be able to have it finished by nightfall if no one bothers him. Just in time.

With a victorious smile on his face and anticipation in his heart, Percy sets out to work, grabbing his tools and moving the large, old sheet from where it hides his most secret possession. He pauses for a second to admire his handiwork: it’s not perfect, but he built it himself. Percy is not a carpenter by any means, preferring to work with metals and gears, but Keyleth helped him during a few of her visits to Whitestone, and Pike found him some books he could read about woodworking. 

The polished wooden crib sits in the corner, its locking mechanism laughing at Percy’s face. He never once thought that he would be bested by a mechanical part of all things, especially not after building a wooden crib with his hands, but the pesky contraption refuses to do what it is meant to do.

As he starts working on the mechanism, Percy remembers the day a solution to another crib-related problem fell at his feet, quite literally. It happened at the beginning of the pregnancy, shortly after they found out about it when Percy and Vex were out for a stroll in the center square of Whitestone. The city wasn’t fully healed yet, a few looming signs of the Briarwoods still crept around the darkest alleys, but everyone was working to repair that. The couple had paused underneath the rebirthed golden canopy of the Sun Tree, taking in the sight of its beautiful colors, when a branch fell at their feet. It was unusual—one might say rare—for the tree to lose limbs, considering its significance and the divine energy radiating from it. Vex’ahlia saw it as a sign of Pelor, an offering to the couple, Percy, not so much. 

“Tree branches fall all the time,” Percy had tried to argue.

“But this is the Sun Tree, darling. This tree was planted by Pelor,” Vex had tried to counter-argument. 

They didn’t reach a consensus on the matter. Instead, Percy called for Keyleth to check in with the Sun Tree to be sure Delilah’s influence was completely gone (or that the spinning orb of death underneath the Sun Tree wasn’t the cause of losing limbs). It was only after her confirmation that the branch had indeed been a gift to the couple and the upcoming heir that Percy relaxed. After all, it was helpful having a friend who could talk to plants.

In the present, Percy’s hand brushes the slightly different colored wood of the headboard where the de Rolo crest was carved. His eyes glint with pride at being able to incorporate such an amazing gift into the crib, and while he doesn’t care for the gods, he knows this baby is a blessing of one. But there is no time to lose. Percy has a crib to finish if he wants to eat supper with his wife.  

—

“How was your day, darling?” Vex’ahlia asks, removing the few pieces of jewelry she bothers to put on each morning. 

“Uneventful,” Percy replies with a smile. “And yours, dear?”

“Oh, you know. Boring as usual.”

“Well,” Percy stands behind Vex, looking at her reflection in the mirror. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head and helps her undo her braid with gentle movements. “Soon enough, that won’t be a problem any longer.”

Vex’ahlia snorts and looks at the little wooden box on her vanity. She had hidden the cufflinks inside it earlier that afternoon, waiting for this exact moment to present them to her husband.

“Percival, darling.”

“Yes, dear?” Percy’s eyes meet Vex’ahlia’s in the mirror. Her face is radiant, and her skin is smooth and clear, with no eye bags, dark circles, or imperfections. Vex’ahlia is a beauty beyond compare to Percy’s eyes, which makes it even harder for the man to see himself reflected right next to her. His face is paler than usual, thanks to not getting much sun, his hair is in a disarray of knots that needs to be cut urgently, and the round, gold spectacles barely do anything to cover the dark circles underneath his eyes from not getting enough sleep. Overall, Percy’s face is just an expression of exhaustion.

“I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? For me?” Percy stands straight behind his wife. He watches her movements as she opens the small wooden box in front of her and picks up something he can’t see just yet. 

“Here,” Vex turns in her chair, sliding her legs to the side. Percy kneels in front of her—Oh, the sight of her husband on his knees in front of her makes her legs tremble—and waits patiently for her to extend her closed fist to his open, expectant hands. 

“Vex’ahlia,” Percy brings a cufflink close to his glasses, smiling at the little carved bear. “These are beautiful, darling. Thank you.” He moves closer, placing a soft hand on one of her knees so he can kiss her.

“I happen to have a gift for you as well,” He chuckles. Vex’ahlia arches an eyebrow in amusement. Giving each other gifts for no apparent reason is common for them, but both having the same idea at the same time is usually rare. 

“Come,” Percy gets on his feet and offers a hand that Vex gladly takes. Suspicion builds in Vex as Percy leads her to the wooden door connecting their bedroom to the nursery. 

At first glance, the room is still the same, covered in darkness in its mostly unfinished state, but then Percy lights a candle nearby—more for his vision’s sake than Vex’s—and she sees it more clearly. In one corner of the room sits a wooden crib, roughly made with curves and notches. 

“Percival, did you make this?” Vex asks, lightly brushing her fingers on the object. Percival standing bashfully behind her is all the answer she needs. “It’s beautiful, darling. It must have taken you so long.”

“Ah, yes. I have indeed poured many hours into it,” Percy replies, wrapping his arms around her and holding her large belly. The relief is instantaneous, and Vex can’t hold in the sigh at the weight difference. 

“Look here,” Percival momentarily removes one hand to point at the part of the crib with the different kinds of wood.

Vex’ahlia leans in and lets out a gasp as the flickering light of the flame reveals the de Rolo crest. But not just that. The wood tone is different and almost looks like its knots and grains shimmer in gold hues by the light. It can’t be.

“Darling is this—”

“Yes. The Sun Tree branch.”

Vex’ahlia spins in her husband’s arms, her hands cradling his stubbled cheeks, and she smiles brighter than the moonlight coming in from the opened curtain.

“It’s beautiful, darling. I love it so much.”

“It’s the least I could do for them,” Percy looks down at the bump between them with fondness in his eyes. 

“They will love it just as much as I do.”

No matter how long it has passed, how many kisses they have traded, whenever Vex kisses Percy, he still feels the same electricity he felt the first time they kissed. Her lips are still the same softness and still taste like honey. 

“We should go to bed, darling,” Vex says, holding Percy’s hand and leaving the nursery behind.

“We should,” Percy replies, blowing out the candle and closing the door. 

The cufflinks aren’t the first gift Vex’ahlia offers Percival—the first gift was given to him years ago in a dark room far beneath the castle—nor are they the last. For as long as they are together—whatever many years Percival has left on him—there will be many gifts waiting for him, either to celebrate special occasions or just because. The same can be said for Vex’ahlia. Even after Percy’s body is one with the earth of Exandria, he will still find a way to give his wife the most beautiful, touching gifts she has ever received, either in the form of fond memories and smiles or of their children running and laughing around the castle, reminding Vex of Percival’s love for her and their family.

[Read it on AO3]

[edgarwayne]

During a winter outing Nathan and Edgar have an important talk.

@ghostsbrokenbyfairytales

nathan laughed at the description. "if i wanted to do a full romance scene i would've swept you off your feet and went straight home to do what i said instead but you've still got a big ouchie so it's best to keep your feet on the ground right now." when edgar squeezed his hand it made him realize something, pausing his laughter to look at their hands. "i'm sorry. i should've asked i uh, i hope this is okay?"

"Mr. Big Strong Firefighter thinks he can carry me all the way back to the flat? I'd almost say prove it, but we both know that's a terrible idea." At the question Edgar looked down at their hands and nodded. "Yeah. Although….it's not very friendship-y of us," he pointed out with a smile. Not that he wanted to let go.

“oh i don’t think i can i know i can and just for that when you’re back to one hundred percent again i will prove it.” nathan grinned confidently knowing he absolutely could if he wanted to. he shrugged slightly but also didn’t let go when edgar said that, instead walking closer to the other. “i mean.. we don’t have to be official to like do.. date.. things. people go on dates and do coupley stuff before becoming official all the time so.. why can’t we?” maybe that was his way of saying he didn’t mind calling all of this a date, it sure felt like one even if they were still waiting on nathan. “sorry, maybe i said too much.”

Edgar scoffed. "Oh, you're so on. As soon as I get the all clear from the clinic, you're carrying me home." He bit his lip as he mulled over what Nathan said. "No, don't apologize. I….I want to do that. I'm…" he let out a sigh. Well, they did promise on talking later. Now was as good of a time as any. He also moved closer so that they were essentially brushing shoulders as they moved. "I just worry about blurring the lines too much. That if there isn't an obvious end goal you…might not want to get better." Swallowing the lump in his throat, Edgar's gaze dropped down to their feet as they continued walking.

he originally wanted to wait to have this conversation but it started slipping out faster than he could stop himself so he nodded along to what edgar was saying. “i understand,” nathan finally said, “i do want to get better though. i don’t… like relying on alcohol to solve my problems.” mostly because he knows it’s created more problems than solving to begin with. “i just, i don’t know, it was easier to quit last time and there wasn’t the looming threat of death before and now i’m like i guess afraid to admit that i’ve started thinking what’s the point..” he admitted with a sigh also looking down at their feet as they walked.

Edgar stayed quiet for a few moments, letting what Nathan said really sink in. The very reason they met was because they were both drinking at the bar, for what surmounted to more or less the same reason. "I ask myself that a lot. I'm scared, bloody terrified even, of what the future will hold. If there even is a future. But," he paused to reorganize his thoughts. "There are so many amazing people I have met in this town. People who have helped me feel more alive than I have in years, ironically enough. So if our time is cut shorter than it would have been anywhere else, well…I want to say that I at least enjoyed it all to its fullest."

nathan smiled softly at edgar. “i’m glad you have those people. i don’t have a lot of people that make me feel that way but…” he paused and squeezed his hand softly, “i guess there’s a few people i can say make me feel that way at least.” he ended up sighing though, taking a sip from his drink again then added. “i dont even know where to start when it comes to quitting at this point.”

"You might not have a lot, but there are still people in your life that care about you. Not just me." Edgar returned the hand squeeze. He took a sip of his own drink, needing the caffeine to help keep his thoughts in order. He offered a sheepish smile as Nathan admitted he didn't know where to start. "So….please don't be mad. I might have been….doing a little bit of research at the library. Most of the books I've found strongly recommend seeking professional help first and foremost. Medical and psychological. But for things we can do now, well, it seems like setting limits for yourself is a good starting place. I also ran into a lot of references to 'triggers' and trying to avoid them."

nathan smiled again and nodded slightly, edgar was right he didn’t need a lot of people in his life to care about him. the few people that already did was enough. his eyebrow raised when he said not to be mad and wondered what he was about say then chuckled as he shook his head. “okay so..” he bit the inside of his cheek now, “what if i don’t know what my triggers are?” well there was one he could think of, seeing edgar in that state the day of the earthquake was definitely a trigger. “or what if one i cant exactly.. help. cause it doesn’t rely on me necessarily..?”

He let out a long exhale, professor brain going into overdrive as he thought over the problem. "Well, have you ever noticed when something particular happens that makes you want to drink? Or that being around particular people or places have that effect on you?" Edgar looked over to Nathan at that last question, brows furrowed. "It sounds like you already have something in mind. If you don't feel comfortable telling me I understand. It's just…harder to help you come up with a plan if I don't know all the details." Still, he shook his head. "But that's okay. You could always try journaling? I find that helps a lot to give myself perspective. Maybe that could help you too?"

he shook his head. “not that i’ve noticed no.” realizing they were still walking he pulled edgar off to a nearby bench to sit down, especially since they were close enough to the video store at this point it didn’t matter. “i mean obviously being at the bar makes me wanna drink but that’s the only thing i can think of place wise.” he may have had a suspicion of people but didn’t want to admit that so moved on. “well.. honestly seeing you that day in that state was… a lot.” nathan admitted in a mumble. he didn’t want edgar to think it was his fault because the stress on top of that day was an added affect. “i feel selfish just saying that because it’s not like you could’ve avoided it, you saved people and yet here i am saying that shit triggered my drinking more god that sounds so fucking rude.” he put his drink down on the bench and put his face into his hands letting out a long shakey sigh. “yeah i guess i can give that a shot or something.”

As they sat down, Edgar kept his gaze on Nathan, expression neutral, open. He wanted the other man to know that no matter what he said he wasn't going to be judged. "Hey," he said gently. Setting down his own cup, Edgar reached to tug away the other's hands, then nudged Nathan's face up and towards him so they could see one another's eyes. "You're not selfish or rude, so don't ever think that. You might be one of the most selfless people I know. You're a firefighter for christ's sake. You help people Nathan. What you're describing, that's trauma. I can only begin to imagine how terrifying it is to see someone you love hurt like I was. I don't regret it, I protected my students like I was supposed to, but I do regret how much it hurt the people that matter to me. If the roles were reversed I can't even tell you how I'd have handled it. Not well, that much I can assure you. So stop beating yourself up over this, please."

He leaned their foreheads together, just taking a few moments to breathe. "Do my injuries still make you want to drink?" Moving back slightly, Edgar guided one of Nathan's hands to the hem of his sweater, indicating for him to put his hand inside. "It's not what you think," he added with a small smile. "I want you to feel my heart beat, and the sweater's kind of in the way. But the point is, I'm alive. I'm okay and I'm breathing." Funny how he had this exact same talk with Kirby only a few weeks prior. "My injuries were bad, and I won't ever fully heal from them, but I'm alive."

when he felt edgar’s hands pulling at his hands nathan hesitated for a moment but gave in quickly, letting him nudge his face to look at him and took another shakey breath. “i know you don’t regret it.” he said with a small chuckle but cracked a smile. “it just scared the shit out of me i guess, knowing that i just confessed to you that i’m in love with you then almost had you ripped away from me that quickly. it felt like the universe was telling me i was some sort of bad luck charm…” first it was mia taking away their son because of his drinking and then the moment he said he’d start working on himself and quit again edgar had gotten hurt.

he shook his head against his forehead, “no they don’t. i guess now i’ve been drinking because it feels.. normal?” though it doesn’t make him act normal. he took a breath, this one less shakey as he slowly felt himself calming down again at his words. “i know you are, i remind myself of that constantly. when i think about it i just tell myself that it could’ve been worse.”

"Well," he said with a small smile. "I guess the Universe, or Fate, or God, or whomever has a pretty bad sense of humor. It's a bit homophobic if you ask me." Edgar hoped the joke would help to lighten some of the mood.

He tilted his head at Nathan's wording. "Normal? How do you mean?" Edgar leaned in once more, this time capturing the other's lips. Pulling back, he gave smile. "Think of that instead of Halloween. I'd argue kisses are preferable."

nathan chuckled. “yeah i guess they do huh?” he was about to answer when edgar kissed him, kissing him back eagerly and sighed contently when he pulled back. “i’m sure as hell gonna try and think about that instead because you’re right, i do prefer that.” he ran a hand through his hair now knowing he had to answer the question. “as for normal i guess i mean like.. i’ve been drinking for so long at this point that it feels like i can’t end my day without a beer or something.” nathan admitted sheepishly. “i know it’s not healthy or normal at all i’ve been through this once before this time just feels harder for some reason.”

He nodded, biting his lip in thought. "Is it just the one beer every night? Or does one turn into a lot more?" Edgar frowned at Nathan's word use again. "Stop using such negative language Nate. If you keep saying it's not healthy, not normal, of course you're going to struggle. Okay, yes, it's not the…healthiest lifestyle choice. Welcome to your 40s where you start to feel every drink a bit harder and your body feels ready to pop out of place at any time. But focusing on all the negative is only going to make it so much harder to motivate yourself."

“usually the one turns into more unless i’m at home and out of drinks.” nathan blinked in surprise at edgar, he wasn’t expecting him to say all of that and yet it felt oddly comforting. “okay..” he said quietly with a slight laugh, “okay i promise i’ll get better at not being so negative about it.” though he knew that was going to be hard and take some getting used to. “maybe tough love will help, a good smack anytime i refer to it negatively.” nathan joked hoping itd land well.

"Okay," he said slowly. "We have a place to start. Let's work on limiting your nightly drinks. I can't imagine cutting cold turkey will do any good. So let's say," he paused to think. "No more than 3 beers. And I mean beer. If you have something heavier as a night cap, limit that to….2." It wasn't perfect, but surely it was at least manageable.

Edgar smiled, appreciating the attempted joke. "I don't know. I feel like you would like it too much if I hit you. Might cause mixed signals."

nathan nodded. “i think i can do that yeah, seems like a fair trade to start leaning myself off the dependency.” he was going to try and do less than that but it was a good compromise for now until he could rely on it less.

“hey i-“ he had to pause and scratched his chin as he though on it. “actually i’m not sure, you could be right. i do kinda wanna find out now though.”

It was a relief that Nathan was willing to try the suggestion. Edgar knew it wasn't going to be an easy road to sobriety, but he would be there to support the other every step of the way. At the admission he did let out a laugh, however. "Maybe later," he teased. "Let's go back to what I said earlier first. Seeing a professional. Will you at least consider going to the clinic? Or I've heard there are a few therapists in town. You know there's no shame in asking for help."

nathan laughed as well at the tease and nodded, running a hand through his hair then picked up his drink again. “what would the clinic even do for me?” ignoring the mention of therapists. he knew there was no shame but he’d rather avoid that option and use it more as a last resort than anything. “i’d rather go there first but i just don’t know what they’d even do considering supplies and shit or whatever.”

He took a sip of his own drink, hating that Nathan probably had a point. "I know there's medication that can help curb the craving, but you might be right that they might not have it. But also…" Edgar took a deep breath, bracing himself for what might be the hardest part of this talk. "I read that alcohol withdrawal can be pretty severe. It…it might be good to have the clinic keep an eye on you during the process. Especially since this has been going on for years."

“right…” he remembered the withdrawals he went through the first time he quit but that one was more severe on account of quitting alcohol and drugs. “well, how about we wait and see? maybe if i slowly get myself off of it this time the withdrawals won’t be so bad and the clinic might not be needed at all.” nathan just hoped he was able to actually do that.

Edgar nodded in agreement. "But if it gets too bad you'll see them, right? Please?"

nathan chewed on the inside of his cheek realizing it was a nervous habit of his before nodding. “okay. yeah if i can’t do it on my own i’ll see them.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Edgar gave a small smile. "I'm glad. And maybe try to avoid the bar? At least as best as you can?"

he nodded again. “yeah i guess i can try and avoid there yeah.” that one might be tougher for nathan but he’d try.

"Okay, last one, and then we can keep going. What can I do to help? And please, don't just say 'heal up' or 'be yourself.' I really want to support you Nathan, be there for you." Edgar's eyes searched the other's face, expression pleading.

god dammit anytime edgar used that expression nathan always had a hard time arguing about anything. sighing he shrugged, “i’m gonna be honest i’m not sure.” he finally admitted. “last time i went through this i didn’t really have the support so i don’t actually know what you can do to help.”

Great. That wasn't much to go on. "Well, is there anything I can do different? Do more of? Less of?"

“not really?” nathan bit his lip now and looked at edgar. “i know spending time with you makes things easier, the urge to drink isn’t as prominent.”

Edgar also bit his lip, thinking back to their conversation earlier. "You…mentioned wanting to do more dating things. Would…would that help? Instead of waiting entirely until you're ready?"

nathan paused to think on it for a moment, almost as if he was having an internal debate with himself. when he was ready he took his free hand to grab edgar’s free one. “i know the idea of doing those things makes me happy and when i’m happy the thought of drinking isn’t really there.” he finally said looking at the other with a smile

He looked into Nathan's eyes, searching, before giving a slow nod. "Okay. Okay, yeah." After a moment Edgar returned the smile. "I'm glad we were able to finally talk. Really talk, you know?"

it felt like forever until edgar said something back and smiled, making nathan let out a small sigh of relief. “me too, i’m.. i’m sorry it took so long.” he said sheepishly.

Edgar shook his head at the apology. "It's okay, really. The fact we're having this conversation at all means the world to me. And I'm proud of you, for even taking this step."

he smiled at the words and leaned over to kiss edgar softly, pulling away to rest his forehead on the others. “thank you for not just giving up on me either..” nathan said quietly.

Edgar returned the kiss, smiling against the other's lips. "I'd never dream of it," he whispered. "Are you ready to keep moving? You're probably freezing."

he chuckled and nodded after pulling away fully now. “the hot coco helped but yes im ready to keep moving. this bench is freezing my ass i did not wear the right pants.” nathan laughed as he stood up, holding his hand out to edgar to help him stand if he needed it, or just to take it and hold, either worked for him.

[sins-of-warriors]

Before you can say anything remember I'm old as fuck so my first was

When the show came out for the first time

And the classic

And my first "Oh no..."

Just a fun question for all of you. What was your sexual awakening character, live action or not? Can be just normal stuff or kinks. Mine was Kallen.

@tokufan400 @freeusemuses @hellforestrp @sins-of-warriors @asexxxualerotica @cursetopia2 @lewdest-mansion @lesinfullgallery

[vixlenxe]

But look, it important for Tiffanie to be able to confront both Diabolos & her parents, because they deal in two different sides of her that still remain from her past, even after all the time. Diabolos is the more physical threat, the securing of her future & allowing herself to be open with others. Evault & Jesette are the stunts in her mental & emotional development.

Diabolos is her gaining the rights to her future, as well as her lesson in learning to fully trust others & allowing them to take care of her. If she can't get rid of him now, while having access to The Void, then her future is limited & bleak. And though now, she has the ability to take care of & fight for herself & others, she's still very hesitate to allow others to do things for her & take care of her when she needs it or even lowkey wants it. She still feels guilty about 'burdening others' with her strifes when she should be able to handle it herself now.

Something we've learn about voidsents is that, when they consume another living being's aether(aka their soul), said being doesn't die, they're soul and consciousness live on in the voidsent that consumed them, this is what will happen to Tiffanie should Diabolos gain complete control of her. To kill a voidsent would then in turn kill the souls within it, given, they are on a aether-ly balanced world, like The Source. The Thirdteenth is not aether-ly balanced, & for a voidsent to die on this world would not equal death, merely it would break it apart into the individual beings that comprised it. With this info, the plan will be to allow Diabolos to take over Tiffanie while she is on The Thirdteenth, in which her company will do battle with Diabolos until 'death', & result in the splitting of Diabolos & Tiffanie's souls at last. This, of course put's Tiffanie's very existence completely into the hands of those that go to the void with her(the team now is small, but I imagine that more scions will come with her on her final trip). It will make her realize that she quite literally can't do this one her own, & she needs to put 100% trust into others to both save her life, or end it should this not work. She trusts people to kill her, but not being able to save her own life is a heavy weight because she does not what to burden others with her troubles. This is not a burden for her family & friends, nor will it ever be. This is something they want just as bad, to set Tiffanie free, to save her life, & to subsequently care for her afterwards & forever. It's knowing that she's not burdening these people she calls her family, that they are happy to help & actually are rather scared of losing her, that can let go of that weight, that she doesn't need to do everything by herself. They'd do this thousand times over, gladly, to make sure she gets the future she deserves, because they love her.

Evault & Jesette are the emotional & mental halves. These are the people that have spent 20 years of Tiffanie's life telling her that she is worthless, her existence is a mistake, & that their treatment of her is the best she'll ever get in life. No one will want her, no one will love her, not unless they are getting something out of it. She is a unwanted failure, & it's all she'll ever be. While in most aspects now, she understand that they're wrong. Tiffanie is the Warrior of Darkness now, & the savior of two worlds, there's no way she's a complete failure, 'at least not anymore'. The idea that she still believes she was once a failure is something that I believe speaks for itself: some of Evault & Jesette's 'teachings' still resonates with her. If she's not bringing something into another's life, then she's not worthy of love & care, she must bring something to the table. Unconditional care is something she's not used too, which is way she like to be 'fair' & play things based on 'fairness'. And love is an extremely touchy subject for her as we've seen, as it's very difficult for her to experience romantic love, & she knows little difference between what is romantic & what is just sexual, so when she does experience romance or has romance aimed her way, she gets super confused & retreats into silence like she did for everything when she was young. She's still retreating into silence, she still believes no one will love her in such an intimate way, she still believes that to be loved at all she needs to be worth something or to have something someone wants.

Confronting Evault & Jesette is confronting everything she's been taught, confronting her entire upbrings, confronting things that she still somewhat believes. It's realizing that she has a lot of emotions, some she doesn't always understand, but knowing she shouldn't have to hide from them. It's realizing that people do love her, completely & fully, romantically & unconditionally, even when she can't give anything back, even when she makes life difficult for others around her. It's realizing that her entire childhood was filled with abuse & mistreatment & she's so tired of hiding from it, she doesn't like it but she's also doesn't want to act like it didn't matter & like it didn't happen anymore. She's tired of being silent on things that make her want to scream, she tired of letting these two abusers walk away without punishment, because she once thought 'it didn't matter they abused me, it's just me after all, I don't matter as much as others' because she matter so much to so many people, & to herself now. Her own life matter, not just to others, but to herself, finally.

Diabolos, Evault, Jesette. These are Tiffanie last hurtles to jump over to self growth. They are her biggest ones. And thankfully she has long legs to jump with.