#read more for length

[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]

#critical role #cr fic #vox machina #vaxleth #vaxleth as love languages #read more for length #my fic #love languages

[liroyalty]

It's time to do what I always do & ruin the day by taking about someone ya'll don't like, & this time it's King Dalibor & why he keeps giving his eldest child a hard time & doesn't publicly acknowledge Suzana as his heir.

To make a long story short: Dalibor doesn't believe a woman should have power, & much of it is rooted in misogynistic views he holds.

Dalibor didn't grow up with a sister, it was just him & his younger brother, as per the Rule of Two didn't allow the royal couple to have anymore children then 2 as long as they were alive. The only woman in his life was his mother, & she was horrifically mistreated by his father(a man whom he was named after). His father implanted in his head that women were lesser then men, they were house rears, child barers & objects of beauty, men were rulers, warriors & bread winners, & for either to be anything else means they were allowed to be mistreated, especially for a woman to not obey her husband.

While Dalibor was able to shake a small faction of these views when he got older, mostly the 'allowed to be mistreated' bit, he did not completely. When Dalibor wed his wife Nataša, he selected her specifically because she fit his fixed idea of a woman, she was soft, kind & beautiful, with an upbringing that befitted someone who would care for their expected children. They almost never fought & the king only ever raised his hand against Nataša once; such conflicts did arise was after Suzana & Anamarija were born & they disagreed with how their children should be raised & Dalibor pent up frustration with his wife not giving him the son he wanted surfaced. Dalibor was the opposite with his eldest daughter however, as they fought on a near constant basis, as Suzana continued to become less-&-less of what the king's fixed idea of what a woman should be like. She was her father's daughter, stubborn, prideful & outgoing, while his second born was her mother's daughter, soft, meek & sweet; the king never had to worthy about his second daughter, because he knew she would be his fixed idea of a women, so he had to turn his attention always to his heir to 'correct' her.

In Dracondia Scre, the rights of royal succession are absolute primogeniture, in which the eldest child of the monarch are instantly given first rights to the throne; meaning women & their descendants have the same rights as men & the royal name is kept by the woman rather then changing it to their spouse's name. It has been this way since the implementation of the Rule of Two to keep the royal line secure. However, the reigning monarch has the ability to sway the rules, & can instead personally select their heir with a royal decree. Meaning, their eldest perhaps displays unfavorable or even dangerous traits, they may choose their secondborn, or another family member of theirs(such as a brother/sister, nephew/niece, grandchild or even a cousin) & declare them as The Dragon Heir(ess). Public acknowledgement by the reigning Dragonlord is usually important for a Dragon Heir(ess), as without it, it makes them appear as an 'unfavored candidate' to fellow lords & ladies of Dracondia, & has been a source of rebellions & squabbles between nobles & royals in the past.

Dragonlord Dalibor has not publicly acknowledged his eldest Suzana as his heir, despite carrying the title of Dragon Heiress. As it is his wish to see his daughter married & bare a son before his passing, so he may pass the heirdom onto his grandson. As he still holds the belief that it is a man who should rule, even if he is very young. Many in the court seemed to have recognized this, & are bidding for Suzana's hand even more aggressively then one would normally, as they wish for a chance to put a child of their bloodline on the throne, a child of their blood they can hopefully manipulate.

#musings [lore and ideas] #『v!house of the dragonriders』 #headcanons [a royal decree!] #read more for length

[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.

#voodoodaaddy #rp memes #muse!lucifer #answered #{thanks for sending!} #{all in good fun!} #{I dont believe he #always be THIS hostile but boy was this fun to imagine! xD} #{Also just know I love this kinda sh*t and I have been having tons of fun with your Alastor povoking him} #read more for length #it became a wall of text

[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.❞

#wcrden #( inquiries addressed ; asks ) #read more for length

[vixlenxe]

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the blinding light that whited her previously black vision... the second was the Twelve awful ache that coursed her entire being. It felt like fire, it felt like getting hit in the head with a rock, it felt like getting spilt open from the inside. It was so many things at once, it was like being embraced by death, just for her to let you go in the end.

"Urg...!" And she groaned, the only thing she could managed in such a state. Only to be responded too.

"Tiffanie!"

And she knew the voice instantly. It was the same voice that guided her through the darkness. It's accompanied by a strong grip enclosing around her hand. A hold.

"... I... I... vy...?" She managed to rasp.

"Yes, yes I am here." Ivy had shifted her voice to be more hushed, but she sat still just beside Tiffanie's bedside, which the younger came to realize as her vision slowly came to focus slowly, seeing the outline of the older sister beside her. Ivy could only watch as her younger sister blink her eyes rapidly, trying to bring her vision, clutching her hand all the while. She felt such a relief to feel Tiffanie squeeze her hand back, & finally right lock eyes with her.

"Ivy." Tiffanie whispered in a smile. Then slowly looking around the room, slowly reconziging the room as the one she had when she stayed at Radz-at-Han... "... Estinien...?" ... & then noticing the figure standing at the wall, at attention for once rather then relaxed back against it.

"Welcome back to reality, sleeping beauty." The dragoon greeted with his usual snark, like nothing had changed.

"... I'm... still alive...?" Tiffanie asked, still feeling like death itself.

"Ay, though I'm sure your Lady Death tried to take you for a spell." Estinien quipped. "You were out for quite a while."

"How long...?" Tiffanie's eyebrow raised, & then she looked at her sister.

"... It's been a few days since we brought you back."

"Days?! ... With how I feel... I thought you were about to say I've been here a month!"

Both The Warrior of Light & the Dragoon have to hold their chuckles. To them, it did feel like a month. They've been waiting.

"Take it easy." Tiffanie had been trying to sit up, but Ivy assured her back down with a gentle hand on her forehead. "Health wise, & aether wise, you're okay, but you might feel week from laying down this long. Take it slow."

"..." There was a pause, hearing those word. Aether-wise. Her aether is... okay. "My aether... Ivy... Ivy did we... really do it...? Is... is he?"

"He's gone." A firm, confident nod followed.

"Nidhana & her alchemists confirmed it. If there was any trance of him left, I think they'd be the ones to find it."

The younger elezen placed her hand over her heart, screening her own energies. She felt lighter... her mind clearer... there wasn't this bottomless hunger for bloodshed, this second voice to taunt her mind, a dark shell enclosing her & putting a distance between herself & others.

"He....... Diabolos....... I can't.... I can't feel him anymore." Her voice trembled, filled to the bone with elation, relief... & almost disbelief. Tiffanie thought... he might never be rid of him, that he would be a looming burden & threat for the rest of her life.

"He's..... he's finally gone?" She looked to Ivy & Estinien again, unknowing of the tears that clouded her eyes. Only when they nodded again, did they fall free. A ever increasing weight pulled from her shoulders. A burden whose duty she felt to bare she was relived from at last.

When she began to sob softly, Estinien finally pushed himself away from his chosen wall, leaning over Tiffanie & Ivy alike, as the older sister clutched the younger's hand tightly again. And the younger sister squeezed back so tightly.

"Tiffanie?"

".... T-thank you..." She rasped through soft weeps & broken cries. "Thank you thank you thank you.... This is all... This is all I ever wanted. Thank you."

The two older elezens smiled. They realized this must have been overwhelming... but still those tears were of joy.

"Anything for you, my sister." Ivy finally replied after a pause, the corners of her own eyes watering slowly. "I swear, I will never leave you behind. You are my family, I want you in my future."

"My... sister." She remembered what Ivy said... & she will always remember now. "Yes... I'm your sister... & I'm... so blessed to have you as my sister. Thank you, Ivy... thank you so much."

#drabbles [endless chapters for an endless adventure] #tiffanie quenderlain; ic [warrior of darkness] #ivy quenderlain; ic [warrior of light] #(because i can control time in these things i say this happened like 3 days after they returned to Radz-at-Han) #estinien; ic [azure dragoon] #read more for length

[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.

#includes ships duplicates events & aus and tiggeres #read more for length #to add to my pinned post as a more accessible rules page

[mayarparker]

Hymn for the Hymnless;

An hour into the new witches night, Maya is feeling slightly more relaxed. She laughs when a blonde woman, Cybele she thinks, compliments her outfit. Cybele just tilts her head and observes Maya for a moment. It's not quite long enough to make Maya squirm. "What's funny about the fact I like your outfit?" Cybele asks, "It's just a compliment."

Maya laughs again before taking a sip of her red wine. "Most people who compliment me are doing it to get in my pants," she replies. It's a joke. Kind of. In Boston, it was mostly true, but here in Greywood, it's less so. She kind of knows that, has a sense of it, but she doesn't entirely trust compliments.

Cybele doesn't laugh. Instead, she observes Maya again, swirling her red wine in its glass. "People should compliment you. It's what friends are for," she says after another almost too long moment.

There's a moment that Maya doesn't know what to say. Friendship is a complicated thing for her. It always has been. Especially recently, she's been feeling like a terrible friend. She has to be a good friend herself before she can expect anything from anyone else. She knows that there's only so many times anyone will put up with her antics. There's an invisible scorecard that she's always trying to understand. Now, Maya looks away. The gossamer linens that have been draped from the walls and ceiling drift slightly in the wind. She realizes now that it's only women here. Those who belong to the organization running the night are all wearing flowers in their hair, probably to help them be identifiable. Flowers adorn most surfaces. It smells fragrant, floral bouquets and wine. Maya turns to Cybele with a half nervous smile, "I do have good friends. They've just probably figured out I don't accept compliments very well."

Cybele gives her a warm smile, "Well, now you've got a friend who will help you work on that." A small white flower fell from her elegant updo. She doesn't appear to notice it, all her attention focused on Maya.

The rest of the night is like that. Beautiful women telling Maya that she's pretty or she's smart and all other kinds of things she doesn't think are true about herself. They talk about magic too. No one makes fun of how little she knows. It's heady. She doesn't drink much, but she still feels drunk. Vaguely, she remembers her parents sitting come in the living room with their coven, incense smoke and laughter hanging in the air. She wonders if this is how they felt. If this was how it felt to belong.

Cybele invites her to tea on Saturday night and when Maya says she has to work, Cybele tells her to come after. Maya goes. It's strange to drink tea instead of shots after a long shift. But everyone is so nice. She had arrived exhausted, but soon felt energized. The atmosphere is infectious. Maya finds herself spending more and more late nights with the Daughters of Circe. She's hesitant at first, her young experiences making her cautious around covens. But they're not a coven they promise. They're so nice too. Maya doesn't leave a gathering without being complimented at least once by ever member. It helps her get back to some kind of normal. She's eating better and drinking less, even if she's still not sleeping much. Now though, her sleepless nights are spent in what Maya thinks is good company rather than in desperate attempts to fill the lonely ache in her chest. It means she spends less time with the people who had first welcomed her to town. It's not a bad thing though, she's just expanding her friend circle.

Occasionally, someone, usually Isis, will take a crack at one of her friends, Ryden especially, but Maya writes it off. While she always defends the people she cares about, she can see how many from an outside perspective, especially from such a tight knit group, it might seem less than ideal. She rationalizes too that most of her friends are men and this group isn't too keen on men.

At first, half a dozen women from the new witches night had come to the subsequent gatherings. After a few weeks, it's just her. Maya can't deny that makes her feel a little special. She knows, logically, its not a test or a contest. The other women probably just had other commitments or didn't vibe. Still, there's something about the way she's treated at Daughter of Circe's gatherings makes her feel special. She's enjoying her newfound friendships. She's learning about magic. It feels good. She feels good.

#[fragile like a bomb] #[past is prologue] #read more for length

[whitecrownsblackthrones-archived]

This is probably the fastest I’ve ever added a group of characters to this blog ever-

(Facelaim: Admiral Galleus from Monster Hunter Rise Sunbreak)

Stan Galle: A high ranking knight in the Kingdom of Camellia, currently holding the rank of Admiral. One of the few remaining solders that had lived to see action in the Old War, much like King John himself. Stan is close comrades with the king, who recount one another as war friends. A serious & to-the-point type of man, of no noble background but is highly honored among the ranks of the nobles, he achieved his position & respect out of sheer merit & experience. It was he who personally saw over the king’s two daughters, while they underwent their military training, & personally sight them as ‘more then fit for battle in war times’.

(Faceclaim: Dame Fiorayne from Monster Hunter Rise Sunbreak)

Trilla Striker: Originally born a noblewoman to the Striker family of Kyren, she was the third children between the Viscount & Viscountess Striker, & their only daughter. While it’s usually typical for the children of noble families that are not heirs or spares to seek a military career, the Striker family wanted to keep Trilla from such a career to use her as a pawn for a political marriage to a wealthier family. Trilla, however, wanted to become a knight, so snuck away from her family’s estate one night & found herself a position in the Kyren Military Training base. Today, Trilla is a royal knight in charge of guarding the Royal Palace & is highly regarded by both Crown Princess Ann & Princess Suzanne for her impressive melee skills.

(Faceclaim: Sir Jae from Monster Hunter Rise Sunbreak)

Chris Dogger: One of the newest recruited knights into the Camellian military, he is young & full of life & energy. A commoner whose family originally ran a small family business that was one day robbed a much of masked criminals. From that day, Chris wanted to be able to defend well meaning people from the ill-willed. He is a bit naive, seeing the world in a very black-&-white manner.

(Faceclaim: Dame Luchika from Monster Hunter Rise Sunbreak)

Joyce Linen: A knight in the Camellian military, who specialized in the use of guns & howitzers, otherwise known as heavy artillery. Joyce is one of the top five marksmen in the whole kingdom, earning her quite a deal of respect across the country, even in the nobility, despite being just a commoner. Even the Crown Princess Ann herself stated that Joyce’s skills where 'A thousand times better then my own’, as well as stating that Joyce was 'Impossibly charming for a woman with no proper social training’.

#{Old Admiral of the Camellian Military} Stan Galle #{Noble Knight of the Camellian Military} Trilla Striker #{The Newest Knight of Camellia} Chris Dogger #{Top Markswoman of the Camellian Military} Joyce Linen #『A Royal Degree』Headcanons #[Lore; Aesthetic; and Ideas] Musings #read more for length

[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]

#critical role #cr fic #vox machina #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia as love languages #read more for length #my fic #love languages

[liroyalty]

"Oh~ So there you are, princess~"

"Camellia was starting to wonder where you disappeared too~"

"..." Oh fuck, not these bitches. "Unless someone is dying, don't talk to me."

"Now, now, princess. Is that anyway to be?" Amalia cooed, but nothing in it was endearing or sweet, it was purely sour. "We've just been wondering where you'd been these past few weeks. It's not like you to leave the palace for long."

"Get you're filthy ears cleaned. I very clearly indicated I don't want to talk to you unless it's an emergency." And even as Suzanne tried to walk away, the two noble sisters dared to follow her. Still running those loose lips of theirs.

"Is worrying for our princess's wellbeing not a emergency?" False concerned leaked out of Vivien's lips. "You were gone from Camellia for quite a while, after all! Some may have begun to think you were being held somewhere!"

"What I do & where is none of your business." And it really wasn't.

"Oh, no need to get defensive, princess~" Everytime they addressed her by her title, it was laced with utter sarcasm. This was no princess before them, just someone with half-peasant blood & finery to hide her foulness.

"Goodness, it's like your trying to hide something from us~"

"Or perhaps... someone~?"

"..." Oh, so that's it, is it?

"And why does that matter? What? Don't tell me you both have your panties in a twist because I can get a companion without having to pay for it?"

"What?"

"Excuse me?!"

"No one is soon forgetting how you got your mother to pay for Lord Seymour's firstborn & Lord Cross's secondborn to be your arm candy for the Spring Blossom Ball. I'm sorry you're so pathetic that you can't get someone for free, when even I don't have that problem. I'm especially sorry for you Vivien, who would accept one of the Seymour's offered arms when everyone knows they're imbeciles are the verge of losing everything, did no one else truly want you?"

"WHY YOU LITTLE BITCH!!! HOW DARE YOU!!!"

"A bitch? Me? Oh my! It's almost like if you don't leave an animal alone, they'll attack."

Attack is it? Amalia's not afraid to raise her hand then! "YOU DON'T KNOW YOUR PLA-"

It was a word that was cut off mid way, when a violent torrent of dark matter blitzed right by both Vivien & Amalia's heads, the force within the energy easily able to send them both back onto their bottoms, & leave a black indent into the wall of the palace hallway just behind them. It would have been more then enough to remove their heads from their shoulders if either of them had been hit...

"I know my place far better then you're entire family does combined." Sue's hand had been raised, a fresh coating of blackness across her palm. The dark matter orb's source was clear & the message it sent was even clearer. Suzanne was no longer the quiet little dame she had been as a young girl, Vivien & Amalia's lives were just a game to the princess. "You should double cheek your own, before you lose it."

"Oh, & you are both officially uninvited to my birthday. If you show up anyway, I'll have Reginaldus, or perhaps, the black hound, escort you out. Now get the fuck out of my house."

#drabbles [another chapter in the history books] #suzanne ying li fiorenobila {divine empress of night} #vivien-bella rothschild bexley {heiress to the mountain duchy} #amalia gabriela bexley {the 13th bexley child} #read more for length #(sue really went fuck it we ball)

[mersonwritesstuff]

“Let’s take your measurements again. Your boss has noticed your clothes have been getting tighter, and doesn’t want you to pass out during the presentation next month.”

Minako seemed just a little offended by the idea that tight clothes would make her pass out, but also found it amusing enough to snicker.

“Alright, if you insist!” She took her clothes off, though seemed to have trouble lowering her skirt. Thankfully, she managed, though the zipper on it would need to be replaced.

“Should we start with your hips?” The tailor suggested. “You were definitely having trouble with that skirt.”

“Yeah, sure. Bask in the glory of my ass getting fatter.” Minako teased.

“With all due respect, Miss Aino, this is just my job.” He took the measuring tape and tried to read the numbers on it. Unfortunately, it was hard to get a good look at them due to his client’s fat rolls.

“Hmm... yes, your hips have definitely grown.” He observed, before writing down the number onto a pad of paper. “Next is your waist.”

The tailor took the measurements on Minako’s waist as well, before moving onto her bust. Hopefully there wasn’t too much change there, as her shirt came off easily enough. Much to the dismay of his professional composure, she giggled a bit upon reaching them, causing him to blush ever so lightly.

“What? I thought this was your job.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” The tailor cleared his throat. Apparently Minako’s bust had grown, as well. Not enough to make her top uncomfortable, but still significant enough growth to notice.

After the rest of the measurements were taken, he smiled lightly. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Aino.”

“Awww, thanks. Hopefully we can do this again, at some point.”

The tailor’s face went a bright red as he turned away from her to hide it. Was she gaining weight on purpose?

#read more for length

[lifesliced]

READ THE DEATH NOTE PILOT CHAPTER HERE // * all information is based on the death note manga timeline, not the anime.

STATS:

NAME: kagami taro

KANJI: 鏡太郎

AGE: 13-20+, defaults at 20 for his main verse

DOB: 04/04/1990**

SIGN: aries**

HAIR: black

EYES: black

HEIGHT: 5'2-5'9 (157cm-175cm)**

WEIGHT: 98-123lb (44kg-56kg)**

GENDER: cis-male

PRONOUNS: he/him/his

SEXUALITY: demisexual, demiromantic, ace leaning **

FAMILY: single mother, father unknown

** not canon confirmed / headcanon based / not a primary focus **

TARO’S WIKI PAGE / THE PILOT CHAPTER’S WIKI PAGE

“The original Death Note pilot manga chapter stated that "names have been changed to protect the innocent," meaning that the real names of many of the characters are not stated. The chapter starred Taro Kagami, a 13-year old boy and student at OO Middle School.” — SOURCE: DEATH NOTE WIKI FROM THE TARO KAGAMI STORY

—> for my own sanity, while this is so clever, i will be referring to the names given to us. renaming them all would be horribly confusing.

APPEARANCE:

taro is a young boy with cheek-length, smooth, black hair, and he wears a school uniform consisting of a white-collar shirt and pants. later, when taro is an adult, he closely resembles teru mikami.

VERSES:

PRE-PILOT: before the death note pilot, taro is an average eighth-grader at 00 middle school. he is bullied daily.

THE PILOT: takes place during the events of the death note pilot. he has just found the death note dropped by ryuk, and is unaware that ryuk has dropped a second notebook into the human world. he canonically dies and is revived, changing his personality drastically. while the second death note is confiscated and burned by the police, freeing miura of its grip, both still have their memories of the death note.

TIME-SKIP // * MAIN VERSE: my primary verse takes place post-pilot chapter. the death note is a cultural phenomenon with its existence still in dispute by the public.**

** as it is not stated what taro does post-pilot, i assume at the age of 20 he is a sophomore at to-oh university where he is studying criminal law in hopes of becoming a prosecuting attorney. he currently has the original death note he found in his possession, and presumably the death eraser, as it is never outright stated it was burned or confiscated. he has not (yet) made the eye deal, and is still being followed by ryuk. **

from a post i made regarding his “main” verse:

“his time-skip verse is going to be his primary verse where i have him enrolled as a sophomore at to-oh seeing as the timelines basically coincide pretty well. in 2003, he would be roughly 4 years younger than light canonically … the pilot came out in shonen jump in august of 2003, while death note followed in late 2003 (dec 1). taro is 13 when his story takes place, while light is 17 at the start of death note.

in following the manga timeline, and not the anime, we’re to assume that the pilot takes place in 2003 when taro is 13 with there being a 7 year time-skip to when he is 20. this would be around 2010, and light has technically died in january of 2010.

while i’d like to make the pilot coincide with the main series in some verses, others will have to stand alone as their own canon since the pilot and main series are so different, while being very similar. this means there will be a split set of verses, all accommodating to death note in some variation. i do not consider musicals or any live action adaptions, though.

in his “main” verse, he still has the original death note he found, is going to to-oh to become a prosecuting attorney, and is being followed by ryuk as he has not forfeit ownership nor has he died.”

** this main verse can accommodate either going off as a standalone from death note canon, or it can follow the main series by having ryuk drop another notebook, being the one that yagami encounters. **

ALTERNATE UNIVERSES:

DEATH NOTE: completely unaffiliated with the pilot! following the main events of the manga and anime ‘death note’. taro is an underclassman to yagami light, attending to-oh as a freshman when yagami is a senior. he is not affiliated with ryuk, nor does he have contact with the death note. since he has not experienced any of the events of the pilot, taro went through life consistently bullied and became inspired to try and pursue law. he still lives with his single mother, helping her however he can. he is mild-mannered, helpful, and shy.

FAMILY MATTERS: the younger brother and/or twin to mikami teru.

X-KIRA: taro is the proxy to kira, not mikami. follows the death note canon.

ORIGINAL KIRA: taro intends to use the death note to “change the world” as semi-indicated in the pilot

WAMMY HOUSE: he is “K.” more tba!!

EYES OF GOD: he is gifted ( he has made the deal ) . more tba!!

MODERN: he is a law student, having lived basically the same life he did in the pilot sans the influence or appearance of the death note. he is an overall quiet man, a bit on the shy side, and has a strong sense of wanting to pursue justice for those held down by bullies and/or society. he stays with his mother, unwilling to leave her for very long. he can come off a bit serious, but is inquisitive. more tba!!

CONNECTIONS:

miura — the supporting protagonist, he acquires the second death note dropped by ryuk.

ryuk — his shinigami, a demon

agents yamanaka and takagi — they occasionally check in on taro, but he is not fond of their help

yagami raito — written by me!! the best and brightest of death note

MORE INFO DUMPING:

i was reading the pilot and it doesn’t confirm if the eraser is also burned with the “other” death note that miura found, but taro does keep the death note he found. if taro keeps the eraser, he has a lot more leniency with the death note and its consequences. if the eraser was destroyed with miura’s death note, then taro has more restrictions similar to light when it comes to using the death note. i lean towards taro keeping the eraser, which is what i tend to default to in verses where he is still the death note user stemming from his original canon.

inspectors yamanaka and takagi, taro, and miura all agree to keep the death notes a secret so only the four of them know, but seven years later there is a cultural phenomenon of the death note and its supposed existence ..... so either someone said something or someone saw something (im leaning towards miura, definitely not taro).

ryuk never appeared for miura*, just for taro, and stuck with taro through the pilot. even when the death note miura was using was in the possession of taro, miura, and the inspectors, ryuk told taro he was watching from afar. he only comes to taro’s side after taro leaves miura after the death note is burned, never revealing his presence or existence to miura or the inspector, just to taro.

** it is strange that he never saw ryuk, but we can also assume when his death note was burned, that is like forfeiting ownership, which could be the reason he cannot / does not see ryuk at the brief end where he and taro part ways after the climax (this is where ryuk speaks to taro about him having died and come back; where we see the shift in taro’s personality completely). that also being said, it is interesting that the idea of memories being wiped was not implemented, meaning miura will always know and remember what happened in relation to the death note. he will always be bonded to taro in that regard. **

ryuk also comments when he tells taro the rules of the death note that he thought taro was a coward at first, but that he likes taro now, so will “help him with whatever he does.” this is also drastically different from light’s version of ryuk, who is only helpful if required / forced / coerced to be. 

also there is no apple symbolism or usage. ryuk doesn’t ever mention eating or liking apples. 

ryuk is a lot more of a willing participant, seeming to have more of an outward agenda in helping taro than he does with light, who he reveals things to either by choice or necessity depending on the situation. he openly compliments taro and affirms his intelligence to both taro and the audience, and seems more invested for taro to succeed versus his more lax attitude with light (who is a lot more proactive).

taro does briefly mention using the death note for a peaceful world, but also mentions he isn’t thinking on such a grand scale — i would say he probably would think more on this the longer he has the death note, as well as growing up. it’s a different world, as the death note has become a cultural phenomenon somehow.

tl;dr: taro never gives his death note up to the police, instead keeping it. ryuk is shown at the end to still be with taro post-time-skip. taro’s main verse takes place when he is 20, following the rules of the pilot, not the canonical death note series.

IT SHOULD ALSO BE NOTED: taro’s death note does not have any written “rules” in it for him to know or follow, and the cover is in english. when he tries to return it to ryuk, ryuk says that he already has a new death note, seeming to not have the same problems from the canon death note series of getting a new book. ryuk also tells taro later, when taro is being confronted by the police, how some of the death note works, specifically the portion about heart attacks if no cause of death is written. the death note seems to still function in the same way that light’s would, for example, but it is not as clearcut. it is after the police leave taro’s home that taro is given the full explanation of the rules to the death note. he basically went in more blind than light, but with less restrictions. 

ryuk doesn’t seem to have to follow taro, as i mentioned he does not appear to miura that we know of, and he has his own death note separate from taro’s. in fact, ryuk was in possession (at one time or another) in the pilot of three death notes: taro’s, miura’s, and his own. 

one detail that confirms what canon death note does not is this: when you run out of room to write in the notebook, you may ask the original owner shinigami for another. so, how many death notes do you need? it is said that the death note has 60 pages, 38 lines per page, and you can write as small as you’d like so long as it’s basically legible. so, if you write small, you can really get a lot of use out of the death note as we see it in the pilot.

what are the other rules of taro’s death note?

the notebook can only be used by the one who found it. if the owner throw it away or drops it, the right of ownership will be transferred to the next person who finds it.

if you do not know the face of the person whose name you write down, there will be no effect. therefore, people with the same name will not be affected all at once.

if you write the cause of death after the name like this —> (name) died (cause), then that will happen.

you can write with any pen, color doesn't matter. if you stick a seal with a name on it, there will be no effect. please write directly in the notebook. it would be a good idea to change handwritings as much as possible.

these letters (the cover) cannot be rased, and if the cover is destroyed, the notebook cannot be used. be careful not to let other people see it. also, you will not die if you write your own name in here, but it is not recommended. **

** that’s a huge change from what we normally see. c-kira actually does perform suicide via this method. **

if you wait awhile after finding this notebook, the original owner, a shinigami, will appear. as long as you keep this notebook, the shinigami will follow you around. that shinigami's appearance and voice will not be noticed by other people. as a condition for letting you keep the notebook, a situation may arise where the shinigami will take it back. those who do not wish to be followed by the shinigami may simply give the notebook back or throw it away. **

** i know i’ve stated that it seems like the shinigami don’t have to follow their book borrowers, and ryuk does follow taro around, though seems to have preference. since ryuk dropped two books, allowing both taro and miura to use them, he should be seen by miura, or at least visited, but likely had not had the book long enough to be actually confronted by ryuk ... like a trial or grace period, the same as he did with taro (and light). it seems that, in this context, he is more bound to taro. i believe he does prefer him. especially after seeing death and returning ... interestingly enough, however, taro’s mental wellbeing seem to be very compromised post-death and return, whereas this does not seem to be the case with others that were killed by the death note, then returned to their life (so long as their body was intact). taro’s reaction could be more severe due to him being a user, and owner, of a death note. miura, a death note user, wrote down taro’s name. this is almost like a roundabout way of writing your own name down. they did not have the detectives write taro’s name down, thus securing ownership.

everyone else that was killed and brought back seems to have no recollection of this, though the people around them do acknowledge them dying, and then their return to life. as miura was not put in the same position as taro, it is unclear if he would have had the same experience. ryuk calls where taro went “the world of the dead”, and it is unclear if that is separate from the shinigami realm or not ... it could also be the place where the students were haunting taro from via his dreams. he is ultimately changed, and highly connected to the spirit world in some regard, as well as being a “death dealer.” 

in regards to the eraser, the only rule seems to be that the bodies have to be unburned. it is unclear if they would return in a decomposed state if left long enough, or what would happen were they to be autopsied. as it undoes what the death note does, it could also just reinstate them as normal. we never see a long enough time lapse for this, but all the deaths done in the pilot are rectified by taro and miura. 

it is unclear if, in the future, the detectives actually keep up with taro. their fate is ambiguous to me.

taro is basically a huge outlier. 

there is also mention of a prior case by the detectives that happened in the very late 70′s of similar means of death: heart attacks. this infers (likely ryuk’s doing) that the death note has been in the human world before, recently enough to be noticed. it has definitely probably come and go through early history. 

also just interesting to note that there is no visible difference between taro and miura’s notebooks. this could be because all death notes look and function the same, or because they were owned by ryuk.

#/ * THE OG ( KAGAMI TARO ) #/ * HEADCANON #this is his about page so ill link it shortly in all the right places #read more for length #read more for length // #tagged for length #tagged for length // #this will be touched up every so often but #this is all i can do #his verses are in here so you can just ctrl f to find them easily #the rambling is at the bottom the top is the stuff you really need

[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.

#musings [lore; ideas and aesthetics] #ivy quenderlain; headcanon [shouldering the weight of a blessing] #read more for length #(video at the bottom. should defs watch) #video aesthetic 【pressing the play button until it breaks】 #Youtube

[shireentheunburnt]

Top  5  song  associations

Share  the  top  songs  in  your  playlist  that  most  inspire / represent  your  muse  the  most. Bonus  points  if  you  include  lyrics  to  go  along  with  it.  

Tagged by: @blccdharmonyx (thank you :-) )

Tagging: @the-dimitrescu-seamstress @goth-mothered @harbingercfdeath @xavierplympton1984 @pulchramsolis

+Anyone who wants to :-)

1. Shinedown - Hope

You can be twisted but still optimistic Be the black sheep but not a statistic May not know who you are But you know what you've got So hang on to the absurd Hey, have you heard? Hope's not a four-letter word

Careful, you might catch yourself going under Careful, you might lose your breath like the others Careful, you might slip and never recover Careful, you might burn to death like the others

2. Set It Off - Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

So could you Tell me how you're sleeping easy How you're only thinking of yourself Show me how you justify Telling all your lies like second nature Listen, mark my words, one day (one day) You will pay, you will pay Karma's gonna come collect your debt

Maybe you'll change Abandon all your wicked ways Make amends and start anew again Maybe you'll see All the wrongs you did to me And start all over, start all over again

Who am I kidding? Now, let's not get overzealous here You've always been a huge piece of shit If I could kill you, I would But it's frowned upon in all fifty states Having said that, burn in hell, yeah

3. MindaRyn - Like Flames

Get up now Get up now stronger I believe in myself Stand up now Stand up now, shouting I'll never run away I might lose control Of this world Destroy it for our sakes Let me shout like flames  

Hey you follow me You must take my hand You know the way I stand

(Believe it It's in your hand, break out)

Climb up now Climb up now Higher, I accept myself Wake up now Wake up now, shouting I won't throw it away Maybe, lose control Even if it's about to disappear Move forward beyond that door Let me shout like flames

4. Skillet - Feel Invincible

You make me feel invincible Earthquake, powerful Just like a tidal wave You make me brave You're my titanium Fight song, raising up Like a roar of victory in a stadium Who can touch me 'cause I'm (I'm made of fire) Who can stop me tonight (I'm hard wired) You make me feel invincible

5. Three Days Grace - Time of Dying

On the ground I lay Motionless in pain I can see my life flashing before my eyes Did I fall asleep Is this all a dream? Wake me up I'm living a nightmare

I will not die (I will not die) I will surviveI will not die I'll wait here for you I feel alive when you're beside me I will not die I'll wait here for you In my time of dying

Bonus - Skillet - Not Gonna Die

Despair ... You come to me, with your poison and your misery Death ... You come to sting, with your poison and your misery

Death surrounds My heartbeat's slowing down I won't take this world's abuse I won't give up, I refuse This is how it feels when you're bent and broken This is how it feels when your dignity's stolen When everything you love is leaving You hold on to what you believe in

No, not gonna die tonight We're gonna stand and fight forever (Don't close your eyes) No, not gonna die tonight We're gonna fight for us together No, we're not gonna die tonight

Don't you give up on me You're everything I need This is how it feels when you take your life back This is how it feels when you fight back

#Top 5 song associations #blccdharmonyx #Thank you :-) #OOC post #the-dimitrescu-seamstress #thedimitrescuseamstress #goth-mothered #gothmothered #harbingercfdeath #xavierplympton1984 #pulchramsolis #read more for length

[tetsuwan-atom]

Today was Kanaria's birthday. A very special day indeed. It all started in bed, the woman opening her eyes slowly turning to see she was alone in the bed.

Bowen wasn't there.

Yet, the familiar sound of cooking soon caught her ears. He must be in the kitchen. Was he making something for them? For her? Slowly she sits up, catching a waft of aromas, familiar aromsas at that, along with garlic. She recognises those smells. Normally odd for a breakfast choice, but today, it made sense.

He's making shrimp risotto, isn't he?

Now she's slowly moving out of bed, a growing smile on her features, slipping into her dressing gown that's normally kept on the door, heading out to see him just turning off the gas at the stove.

Of course he heard her footsteps, turning to her with such an excited smile.

"Kanaria!" He calls out, quickly approaching her to take her hand and give her a short, good morning kiss. "Happy Birthday!"

"My Sonnenblume~" She replies back, the familar shade of purple on her face. "DId you make this just for me?"

"Sure did!" He answered, heading over to the dining table to a wrapped box. Yes, a wrapped box, dark blue, with a yellow ribbon. "This is for you too. I wanted to give this to you earlier but, I'm really excited now that... today's arrived."

"..Oh?" She moves to take the box in her hands, looking up to the blonde male, still with a smile. "What could this be?"

Such she asks while undoing the ribbon and lifting off the lid. The top of the item catches her eyes. A rush to her chest as she moves to take said item in both of her hands, to examine it completely.

A peculiar object at first, a blue shining planet, with rings, a spaceship of sorts in those rings, along with what appeared to be a moon, on the other side.

"Press the switch at the bottom." Bowen suggests, gesturing with his head toward the object.

Fingers feel to the little switch in question.. a simple flick.. and  the ring begins to rotate.

The planet starts playing a song.

Goodness she nearly dropped it! At once, the number of realisations in that one moment!

The planet was a music box.

And.. that song...

That... song...

“...S..Sonnenblume...”

“I know it’s...not a usual melody but...”

She shook her head. The fingers on her left hand begin tapping on the box, always the same tune, different to the one they were thinking of right now.

“You remembered, all this time, you remembered?”

Now Bowen was blushing, moving to take her left hand in his, squeezing it a bit. It was always cold, but he never minded at all.

Because it was her hand.

“This melody, is the song you sang to me, when we first met.”

Kanaria felt that rise in her chest, her eyes squarely on his. Bowen felt the same feeling too. He was already stroking her hand, a comfort that flowed between one another as the emotions engulfed them.

“I remember hearing your voice for the first time in the park. You thought you were all alone.. and I just... came up to you and asked you to sing... and then... we got to know eachother, we went out, I showed you another world.. and that was when I bought you a music box... cause you collected them. That... that day still rings true to me, as if... it were yesterday. This.. this is a one of a kind box, the gemstone is from another world and it’s... really rare. I wanted it blue, it’s both of our colours.. and being a planet, well, space is something we both enjoy.. but especailly...with you.”

He paused, his smile growing.

“Happy birthday, Kanaria. Thank you.. for being the light in my life.”

...

Kanaria’s heart was racing! She couldn’t decide whether to look at Bowen or the music box! All of it, the colour, the representation.. the tune! Oh, she could feel the tears coming from her eyes.

Bowen remembered the very beginning. He remembered all of it.

Slowly did Kanaria move to set the music box down. Good thing it came with a stand to keep it secure.

“You.. didn’t have to.”

This left her hands and arms free, to wrap around the male and hold him close. It hid the slowly flowing tears, but at the same time, keeping him as close to her as possible.

“But I love it.. I really love it... and I love you.”

A pause to take a breath as she nuzzled into his chest, while also feeling his arms around her, one of his hands in her hair. Such comfort, such soothing comfort, always.

He made her so happy.

“Thank you, mein Sonnenblume~”

#DRABBLE #Event : KANARIA'S BIRTHDAY 2022 #IC : Investigation Underway #Kanaria Omorose : Ultraterrestrial Sweetheart #Bowen Chuuno : The Mighty Atom #AU : Stardust Melodies (Bowen/Kanaria) #Read More for Length

[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.

#drug abuse mention #alcoholism tw #read more for length #honestly we were just trying to do a cute not-date based on meme day answers and these two decided it was the best time to have The Talk #so here ya go #feel free to ask for a tldr #no really you can ask for a tldr #these two had a lot of words #(skipping the date aspect) #musing #ft. nathan