#Read more for length

[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.❞

[vixlenxe]

Hey, let's talk about one of the worst things to ever happened to Ivy, like this shit is up there on like one of the top 3, & that is the duty 'In From The Cold'. Or for those of you who don't play the game, it is simply known as the time Zenos bodyjacked her.

And when I say he 'bodyjacked' her, I don't mean this is like when a sineater is created, & the aether takes control, or she runs on the instincts of another. Ivy's soul was literally taken out of her body & put into a totally different body, some random, nameless, & most likely dead at the time, Garlean solider. And Ivy gets to watch with her own two eyes, as Zenos uses his 'artificial echo' to possess her body & then fucking teleport away with it; after he loudly declares he will use the WoL's incredibly powerful body to kill her friends & everyone at Camp Broken Glass.

Ivy is then stuck in the random, weak body, & is basically powerless to stop Zenos, if not for Fandaniel deciding he will give the WoL a chance too; if only for his own entertainment. He allows Ivy to fight her way through hordes of tempered Garlean solders to maybe have a chance of stopping Zenos. And this isn't like some fucking Anime MomentTM where, despite being in a different body, Ivy would still be as strong as she was in her normal body or have access to all her abilities. NOPE. Ivy's abilities & power is limited only to what the Garlean solders can do. She has three basic slashes, a offense buff, a defense buff & that's it. No magic, no healing, no outstanding agility, not any of the things that she is used to. So every fight she has to engage in is fucking brutal, it takes all her strength & it still takes all her energy out of her. She's not the Warrior of Light in this instance, she is just a normal person. She has been dragged down to the limits of a normal being. And despite almost dying a number of times, one time including coming so close to death that her sight went black, her heart beat slowed in her ears & she couldn't even pick her body up off of the ground, she still persevered. Ivy still dragged her body across the ground & crawled to Camp Broken Glass to stop Zenos, to protect those people, to protect her family, despite not a drop of strength being left in her.

Absolutely everything within her was pushed to it's limits. Hell, I say those limits were well past broken the moment she couldn't stand up anymore, but Ivy still grit her teeth & found a way to continue. In the face of utter hopelessness, Ivy still found a way, she is the Embodiment of Perseverance & Willpower. 'In From The Cold' is the greatest example of this to me, outside of Ultima Thule.

You should 100% watch this video by Stout Helm to get the full idea of all of the shit Ivy was made to go through during In From The Cold. It covers it better then I could & has all the details I brushed over. If you want to understand the pain Ivy went through then in truest detail, it is a must watch. My girl has been through so much.

[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.

[pavlovianpanic]

how does your muse handle harsh criticism ? / miles

zodiac headcanons • accepting • @riprachel

⊹ — PISCES .

≻ how does your muse handle harsh criticism ?

answered here!

so, i'll answer this one:

⊹ — GEMINI .

≻ how does your muse communicate with others ?

this got long for literally no reason.

miles is straightforward, to the point, isn't shy about asking for what he wants or needs, but can be manipulative (in that "journalistic pursuit" kind of way, get me what i need because what i need is for the greater good kind of shit).

with friends, he's not about to lie to them to make them feel better. he doesn't really lie to anyone. he lies when he has to, normally for work, and to get what he wants. again, "greater good over one lie? easy deal to make."

with acquaintances, he tends to rub people the wrong way, but miles has ... a sort of charm about him, one he "naturally has" and one that he can also "activate" if necessary. he doesn't always press the wrong people the wrong way ... sometimes he presses the right people the right way. for everything miles does wrong, he can do equally right in that way, i think.

i'll use some of the LIS cast as examples of his behavior toward people because they're all pretty varied:

kate marsh - he sees her as a pilgrim ... and would call her a pilgrim, but he wouldn't go out of his way to tease her beyond a few comments in class or something. she's just so nice? that it feels like too much of an easy target, she doesn't give the vibe of being disingenuous, and her art is pretty cute. because kate is genuinely more authentic as a person, though grating to him on the religious thing (but he comes from a religious family, so he can kind of rattle off a bible verse to get her off his back about it), she's usually spared from his bullying. to be fair, miles likes to bully bullies, so ... he wouldn't also have reason to go after her. if anything, i think he's just way too forward for her, comes on too strong, and isn't afraid to also come onto her. she's the type of person he's trying to defend from bullies ... but he's just way too much for her as a personality lmao so t they'd know of each other / would be "friendly" and such, could maybe even work on a small school project together, but he more just comes in to defend her if he's around and leaves it at that. with kate, he communicates less through words (though his words are ... a lot) and more through action.

rachel amber - this is going just more off the "idea of rachel" that we get solely from LIS1, but i think rachel ... based on how well she gets along with everyone, how beloved she is, and how perfect she is perceived to be by others, combined with how "chameleon"-like she is, she would be a subject of interest to miles. she's just too perfect, he thinks, so he wants to figure out who the real rachel amber is. it's the journalist in him. given their personalities, i actually think they could get along either really well ... or not at all. he could really piss her off. i think he calls her out on her bullshit, but she does the same to him. they have a lot of that between them, i think. they come across as two flames that can either burn each other up ... or burn everyone around them to ash. with rachel, and subsequently people like rachel, he's blunt, forward, tries to be cunning, maybe starts a little manipulatively or at least not completely honestly, and eventually gets into a sort of "raw and real" state of reality that exists between them, either beloved or venonmous ... or both. toxic, perhaps, and that can account for any type of relationship. toxic friendships are definitely a thing. i can see him coming off as someone actually reliable to her, he always does what he says he will, and he shows up. he fights for what he wants, he defends people, and i think what she kind of sees in frank is what she would similarly see in miles in how "proactive" they are in acting or jumping in the way to protect. i don't think miles and frank share too much other than a brashness, but miles is much more intentional with the way he uses his language, he's very intellectually and justice-driven, so ... i think that's why the similarities are so few, and stop so short.

chloe price - they might get along. they have a no-bullshit attitude, and chloe is pretty honest, which miles likes. she wants to get to the bottom of things if they don't make sense, especially when it comes to rachel being missing. miles likes that chloe gives a shit even after so much time has passed. it keeps miles going in a way. i think he would also pursue what happened to her in the background, trying to keep the case open independently. idk if he would ever make any real grounds with her, but he respects her. he does acknowledge her loss. it's not easy, so he gives her some slack. she also seems to hate bullies, so overall? their vibes kind of align ... but i think chloe would probably see miles as a dick ngl. a dickish journalist ... but at least he's looking for rachel. but is it genuine? that would probably be chloe's struggle, like it's great that he's looking for her ... but why? just bc he's a journalist? bc he knows her? if he knows her, how well? did rachel ever talk about him? i think his interference in that way causes some internal conflict as chloe learns more about rachel's relationships post-disappearance. so, their communications would likely be mostly text-based, a little short, and if they meet in person, it's business. especially if rachel is missing. with chloe, he can be honest, forward, and not bullshit her. she can take the truth. there's at least that mutual understanding.

nathan prescott - miles ... cannot stand nathan. he just doesn't like the guy, their vibes don't match, and miles wants to eat the rich, so ... i mean, blackwell is hard when everyone is rich around you. if miles even actually goes to school there? he might just be interfering because of xyz reason, he's just ... like that. but their communications are not good. miles is very venomous, aggressively charged, ready to fight, and biting. he constantly would critique nathan, thus people like nathan, because he sees their family as part of the problem, and is likely trying to make their family his big expose to get into the journalist world. miles truly has ... little self-preservation in certain ways, but a lot of self-preservation in others. nathan, to him, is no threat. he's bigger than nathan, stronger than nathan, and has a stronger personality. insults do not bother miles, he has way too much self-confidence, but i mean ... a gun would admittedly take him out, but i don't even think a gun makes him feel scared. there is that like ... shit, am i gonna die? but he's so stubborn that his mouth sort of overrides his instincts, but he also has strong instincts. i've mentioned he's a fighter against people he feels he can fight ie other humans, but he's a run / hide / survive in outlast bc ... those are not people he could ever take on. but nathan? he's got the physical advantage, is much more emotionally strong, and does not need a mentor figure to validate him. miles, unlike nathan, does have a strong family, so where he lacks in nathan's influence and wealth, he counters with a strong family background and a confidence that has been engrained in him from his family since birth. so, they come from extremely different angles, meaning miles would have a very hard time sympathizing and understanding nathan at all. depending on how privy miles is to the kate situation, and he is privy to a lot (he's very ... invasive), i think he would be very angry and would try to "uncover the truth" because this follow my "kate is the type of person he defends" point.

max caulfied - he finds her flat at first, but learns over that week that she has a lot of depth. i think she's so ... neutral in some ways, so agreeable in others, but learns herself to embrace her individuality, talent, power, and confidence, that max is someone miles comes to respect. she acts (if the player chooses, i suppose). he likes that. he respects that. but i don't know if they're bff material. they could be allies for sure. i think they'd forge a bond ... a bond miles would eventually never know they had. he's direct with max and people like her. he sees her more as an equal, i think, so he gives it to her straight, but not necessarily to bring her down, just to give her the reality (or what he perceives is reality).

[grievedifferent]

pre established meme, but with deku and sabito!! 🙌🏻

pre-established relationship meme 2.0 ☆ accepting ☆ @chimerameat

bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of, and struck out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  pen pals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other 

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based on circumstance  /  based on professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero-villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other 

FINAL THOUGHTS: outright, i see a very mentorship/older figure-younger figure friendship here (while still being pretty close in age, so like a sibling gap kind of). i think if we wanted to make a "main verse" for them, they would go til the end of the series (however that ends for both of them respectively).

however, if we ever wanna spice it up, i can see a few antagonistic scenarios, particularly like misunderstandings / conflicts of ideology / even a demon!au ...

[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.

[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.

[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]

[tohexwithit]

Wishlist (Canons)!

OCs will come later. For now...

Willow

School struggles

S1 threads where she's still on rocky terms with Amity

Hexsquad antics

Maybe I'll plot a ship with someone's Hunter, maybe not. I do ship it, but I'm anxious about approaching people for shipping.

Boscha

Grudgby practice, anyone?

Exploring her false friendship with Amity (and eventual fallout with Skara if anyone RPs her)

...Or she could just bully your muse.

Viney

I WANT HER TO INTERACT WITH A CAMILA. Beast Keeping and healing? Sounds like she needs to talk with a veterinarian!

Your muse got sent to detention? She knows that feeling.

Vitimir

Interactions with other coven heads.

Interactions with Belos, himself

I love the idea of the Coven Heads babysitting Hunter, so maybe something with that?

...Grouchiness

Emira

We never got to see her interest in wild magic, but she is a multitrack student. I want to explore that.

Family stuff

Bat Queen

I just wanna write her, my dudes

[endlessreruns]

When she brings her chair over and leans her head against his shoulder he can't help but turn just slightly to give the top of her head a quick little kiss. "That's a good idea" they grinned at her suggestion to pick something up for Opal too.

Some more time passed, the two just enjoying their drinks and each other's company when Arlo caught sight of the time. They should get going.

They arrived at the clinic not long after, while they did most of their check ups with Raine, there were still some things they needed to go to the clinic for. Things that would require use of the clinic's ultrasound machine. They were lead to the room to wait for the doctor.

Once the doctor came in they went through the normal routine. Asking questions while they pushed Arlo's shirt up over the growing bump in order to prep for the ultrasound. Arlo watched the screen as the ultrasound started, paying attention as the doctor pointed out different things as they moved the wand over his stomach.

"Have you decided if you wanted to know the sex?" the doctor asked

Arlo looked over at Bunny then back to the doctor "We decided we wanted to know"

The doctor waited for the baby to move into a better position to be able to tell, "It looks like you two are going to be having a girl"

"i like comfortable," bunny responds with a little smile — she can't help but stand up to push her chair over to his so she could sit close enough to lean her head onto his shoulder. "maybe we could pick something up for opal, too. i'm sure she'd like that."

[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.

[starrystevie]

eddie knows his crush on steve harrington is a hopeless cause, okay?

he's somehow been friends with steve long enough to know what he looks like when he's flirting, what he looks like when he has a crush, when his sights are set on someone very non-eddie munson shaped. he also now knows how to hide his jealousy in a fake smirk that he flashes steve's way when yet another pretty girl walks their way with her sights set on him and a smirk of her own.

eddie always watches as steve reaches out a hand just so to gently brush it against a lovely lady's arm with that charming fucking smile and sees how that lovely lady will always melt at the touch. and who could blame her? certainly not eddie, the same eddie who's had his own sights set on steve harrington for what feels like a life time. if anyone knows how painfully a heart can beat when it sees him from across the room and imagines a date and a future and a life with steve, it would be eddie.

but that's where it ends. steve harrington, the ladies man that he is, always stops things there with a smile and a wave thrown in the woman's direction as she walks away. it throws eddie for a loop every time. he would watch the two flirt for minutes that that felt like torturous hours for him only for it to end with a disappointed look on her face and steve turning his attention back to eddie like nothing had happened.

it makes no sense.

"i don't get it, man," he says one day as steve lets yet another girl walk away down to the opposite end of the grocery store aisle they're in. steve's turned back to staring at the shopping list in his hand and is muttering to himself instead of watching her walk away like eddie is, disbelief coloring his face.

"don't get what?" steve asks back, not bothering to look up until the silence goes on for too long. his eyes land on eddie's and he frowns slightly, shaking his head slowly. "... did i miss something?"

eddie reels back, eyebrows furrowing together and motions his arms every which way, from the girl's retreating form to the empty space around them.

"steve, you're just going to let her walk away and not get her number? she was obviously hitting on you, dude."

he watches as steve's face crinkles slightly before smoothing out and shrugs his shoulders, turning back to grab the cat food eddie feeds to the strays off the shelf. he lurches forward and places his hands on steve's shoulders to face him, watching as his eyes go wide.

"what do you want me to say?" steve shrugs again and eddie can feel the movement under his hands. "i guess i wasn't feeling it."

eddie sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face before returning it back to steve's shoulder. "wasn't feeling it... steve, i'm gay, not blind. you two obviously were hitting it off with your fucking charming lines and flirty eyes. you always do this and it makes zero fucking sense-"

"-you're gay?"

steve says a bit too loud for eddie's liking even if they are currently hidden in the pet food aisle. heat floods his cheeks and he throws a hand cover steve's mouth while shushing him to keep him from saying it again. he sees steve's eyes go even wider and feels warmth spreading under his fingers.

is steve...

"you knew this!" eddie accuses in a whisper and tries to breathe evenly while steve's gaze travels all over his face. "we talked about it with robin that one time!"

... is he blushing?

there's a sudden pressure at his side and he looks down to see steve's fingers curling over his waist. eddie takes in a stuttering breath and brings his own wide eyes up to meet steve's. it's like looking in a fun house mirror, seeing his flush creeping up steve's neck and watching steve blink in time with him. he can feel when steve tries to say something, his lips ghosting over his palm and eddie pulls back like he's been burned, but steve's hand stays right where it is on his side.

"i absolutely would have remembered if you told me that before," he says and his voice is a little breathless. "there's no way i was there when you guys talked about it."

eddie thinks back to the party when he and robin were huddled up on their couch together. argyle and nancy were dancing in their socks on the living room floor, bouncing around to some experimental track that had been badly recorded on a cassette. jonathan was sitting at the coffee table snapping photos of them, joint hanging from his lips and easy smile spreading on his face.

eddie's trying to pinpoint where steve is in this memory and that's usually the easiest thing for him to remember, but he can't...

until suddenly he can, because steve walked in through the sliding door with his shirt over his shoulder and his swim trunks low on his hips and water dripping down his chest and a cigarette behind his ear and the sunset bleeding in through the windows was painting him golden and he was walking over to dance with nancy with a wide grin pulling at his cheeks and-

"god, i'm gay," eddie had breathed out. robin followed his line of sight and nodded because she gets it like she has a steve problem of her own and that was that.

eddie focuses back in on steve while they stand in the fucking pet food aisle, focuses on the shrill jingle pouring out of the grocery store speakers and not on the way he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, focuses on the way steve can look good even in harsh fluorescent lights.

"well, now you know," is all he can breath out.

steve smiles, all white teeth and crinkled eyes, and his fingers curl even tighter around eddie's waist as he takes a half step even further into his personal space.

"you're why," steve says back easily and eddie reminds himself to breathe as the other side of his waist suddenly has a hand covering it, too. "i don't take their numbers, i don't give them mine, i don't go on the stupid dates they ask me out on because..."

the fingers dance up his side and eddie can't breathe.

"... they're not you, so why would i?"

eddie sends up a silent thank you to whoever is listening that they're hidden away from prying eyes in the pet food aisle so he can lean it and learn for the first time what steve's smile tastes like.

[shireentheunburnt]

whispering-collective thread

@whispering-collective​

Margaery normally hates long days full of traveling but she knows this is all worth it. She wants nothing more than a break from King's Landing. As much as she knows that her duty is being the queen of Westeros, she longs for quiet days from time to time.

She loves being able to speak with people without the protocol of being polite and playing the game of thrones. She wants to have a "normal" conversation without any petty undertones that people can hear from several miles away.

Margaery cringes at the thought as she remains perched in her saddle with her back ram-rod straight. The last thing she wants to do is slouch with all these eyes around her that could report back to Cersei about her daughter in law.

She sneers at the thought as she looks around at her frozen surroundings yet again. She figures she must be close to Winterfell at this point. Or, at least, that's her hope as she looks down at the feet she hasn't been able to feel for hours.

All of a sudden, Margaery hears people in front of her talking about seeing the entrance to Winterfell and she lets out a deep breath of relief as she realizes she'll be able to get off this horse at long last. She will finally be able to put feeling back in her feet!

She doesn't relish the idea of not being able to walk properly after so many hours on a horse but she'll deal with that when she has to. For now, she has to ignore the strong urge to not jump off the horse right now and jump for joy.

Margaery smiles at the thought as she lets her horse guide her through the entrance arch-way. She looks around with open curiosity, having never been to Winterfell before. She can't help the look of wonder on her face, nor does she bother to do so.

She is still smiling when she notices Shireen among those gathered to wait for her arrival. She feels her interest now piqued as she realizes who Shireen is. She had wanted to speak with Tommen's cousin for quite some time and now she gets a chance to do so.

Margaery manages to lightly jump off her horse and tries her hardest to hide her lack of grace at the prospect of regaining the use of her wobbly legs. She can feel a pair of eyes on her as she stamps her feet almost harshly.

Her voice holds a note of amusement when she speaks up only loudly enough for the person watching her to hear. "You know, I've heard it's rude to stare at a visitor openly enough for them to notice the staring, my lady. At least...that's what my grandmother used to tell me."

***

Shireen had heard there were newcomers approaching and had made her way through Winterfell’s halls and corridors to see who they were. As the word seemed to be among the castle guards that it was a company of people and not a lone traveller, the child took comfort that it was unlikely to be the red woman making an unwise return to where she had been banished. After all, Jon Snow had told Melisandre she would be executed were she to return, with the distinct impression that approaching the princess now would also carry the same penalty.

The Lord Commander had truly been a pillar for Shireen and her House in their time of need, even considering the actions of her father against him and others...

Shireen would never let the Baratheon house forget the debt they owed him.

Holding her charred stag figurine to her side with one hand as she hitched up her skirt with the other so she wouldn’t trip herself up on it, she half-ran out into the courtyard so she could watch the strangers arrive. With luck, they would be better people than the Boltons... than her father had been in the end. 

It was still strange to her that she now stayed in the place Stannis had wished to claim without him; though it was far better, she believed, to be somewhere as a welcome guest and not an invading conqueror. With the army of the dead coming, even matters such as the Iron Throne should be put to one side in the princess’ view. Everyone, regardless of loyalties and old hurts, should band together now for the sake of survival. With luck, that comaraderie would both materialise before the threat arrived, and persevere after the battle was done; but if it didn’t remain... at least they could be alive to argue with one another later.  

Getting there shortly before a very pretty lady dismounted her horse, the scarred child stopped in stride to watch, bringing her precious toy to her middle so that she could more easily hold it with both hands. She did not mean to stare, but her curiosity got the better of her. In truth, she had tried to indulge that side of herself as much as possible of late.

It was a comforting distraction when she was able to truly lose herself within it.

Still, the unfamiliar lady was right when she pointed out that gazing so intently at someone one did not know was a rude thing to do. Dipping her head, curtsying as best she could in greeting with her stag protectively in her grip, she spoke apologetically. “I’m sorry, My Lady, My curiosity gets the best of me at times, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.” Straightening, the girl took a breath, “I am Shireen Baratheon, daughter of... daughter of...” She trailed off for a moment, a pained, haunted look crossing her face as her gaze slipped off to one side.

When she started speaking again, it was far more quietly. “Daughter of Selyse Baratheon.” Saying her father’s name often proved too difficult of recent. Please, My Lady, what is your name? Are you all right? I know the journey here is a difficult one, especially given the season...”

She hoped the woman had managed to stay well, as well as those with her, on their ride here.