#perc'ahlia week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waltwhitmansbeard · 8 months

Text

Perc'ahlia Week: Free/Random

we did it folks! thanks to everyone who participated in @percahliaweek, esp the good folks who organized this whole thing! it's been so much fun to explore these prompts! here's hoping i stick the landing.

Percival de Rolo III wakes up on his last day knowing that he will not see another dawn. It hardly scares him; if anything, his aching joints have been screaming for rest for ages now, each one creaking and stiff like an unwound clock. He doesn't know where the certainty comes from, only that it doesn't feel macabre or fatalistic. He is going to die today. Better get a move on.

He doesn't begrudge Vex'ahlia's stubborn insistence that he's fine. He doesn't begrudge Vex'ahlia's stubborn anything. He lets her perform her morning ritual as usual, lies still as she grips one of his hands in both of hers and pours into him every ounce of magic she has for the day. The healing doesn't work, because he is not injured, merely human. Still, he smiles and thanks her, and they both pretend that it made things better.

Over breakfast in bed (all of his breakfasts are in bed these days, as are all of his other meals, and in fact the vast majority of his time), he quietly asks her to gather their family. She freezes, her forkful of eggs halfway up to her mouth. His vision is not what it used to be, but she is so beautiful, the golden rays of Pelor's dawn sparkling in her hair, now more silver than brown. She has always glittered, something beautiful and wild, a dragon who made a hoard of his heart.

She sets her fork down. She does not look at him. She asks if he's sure. He says that he is. She believes him, because after seven decades, she knows he is not a liar. It is a feat, the way she schools her expression into something that doesn't shatter his heart in two. She smiles and kisses his cheek. "Of course, darling."

They come, because for the past year or so, they have been preparing themselves for this very thing. Keyleth is called first, and she takes it upon herself to gather the most far-flung. Percy misses most of their arrivals; his energy wanes quickly after breakfast, and he passes in and out of sleep until a pair of lips on his cheek stir him back to consciousness. "Hi, Grandpa."

Vesper's eldest, Whitney, helps him into a sitting position. He feels each and every one of his bones as he moves. Beside her, her husband, an elven man Percy remembers not trusting for years, holds their infant son. Whitney's eyes are red and swollen. "Mimi says you...wanted everyone here."

Percy lets out a coughing laugh; gods above, they're great-grandparents now, and Vex still hates being called grandma. "I don't think I have many goodbyes left in me, dear. Better to get them all out while I can."

She sniffs. "Can't...can't Aunt Kiki do something?"

Slowly, he reaches over to pat her hand where it rests on the bedspread. "Keyleth has done more for me than any man deserves, as has your grandmother, as has Pike. I have seen my share of sunsets and sunrises, Whitney. Time for...better eyes than mine to take a look."

Just then, the door to the master suite opens, and more de Rolos come spilling in like light through an open window. Wolfe is first, one arm around Gwen, clearly keeping her upright; Danny follows, his aunt Cassandra hobbling beside him, leaning heavily on his arm. Danny's followed by his son, Shaun, and Shaun's very pregnant partner, whose name Percy can't remember. It's disorienting, but not the first time Percy's memory has failed him. Once he had the sharpest mind in Whitestone, keen enough to make the inventions that set his home years ahead of the rest of the continent, technologically speaking, but most days now, his mind feels like a sieve, permeable, untrustworthy.

Still, he smiles as the rest of his family spills in, children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, twenty in all, not including Cass, who is given the chair right by his bedside. So many de Rolos, in a castle once entirely empty of them. Percy sees so much of the family he lost in their faces—his mother's eyes, his father's nose, Ludwig's jaw, Whitney's hair—and not for the first time, he knows what it means to be immortal in the most human way.

As they say their goodbyes, as they sniff away tears, as they promise him to do right by their family name, he knows that the legacy he has been chasing his entire life, one not stained with blood and black with smoke, has been a fool's errand. His family is not his legacy. They are people, just as he is, no more, no less. They will be great and they will be terrible and they will make mistakes and they will make the world a better place because the gods know that Percy has been far from a perfect man, but he believes he has done what he can to sow in their hearts the seeds of kindness, charity, empathy. He cannot claim them as his legacy because they are still building legacies of their own, ones that will reach far beyond his time in this realm.

He lets them kiss his cheek. He whispers his love, over and over, endless and true. He smiles and looks into each of their faces, hoping the sieve lasts long enough to carry him into whatever comes next.

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but when he awakes, the only de Rolo who remains is Cass. He can't see the white stripe in her hair anymore, because it is all white now. Her eyes are a soft blue, belying her almost complete lack of vision. Percy squeezes her hand. "You still with me, Cass?"

"You're asking me?" They both grin. "I've been trying to get rid of you for years. It's about time you got out of here."

"Yes, well, you remember how Mother used to scold me for being so slow to rise in the mornings."

"That's because you'd stay up until all hours reading."

"Which is why I'm so much smarter than you."

She rolls her eyes, and the air shifts, cools into something more melancholy. "Are you so sure it's now? You seem in such high spirits for a man convinced he's going to die today."

Percy doesn't know how to explain to her the knowing, the certainty in his bones that he could count the number of words he has left. He thinks of a night when they were young, far younger than they are now, when Cass would crawl into his bed during a thunderstorm, shaking and afraid. He tries to explain it the same way he explained to that little girl that the thunder wasn't going to hurt her. "The gods have seen my hubris, my cruelty, my ego throughout the years...and they have loved me anyway. How else do you explain this?" He gestures weakly with his free hand, and he knows that she knows he's not referring to the castle and its riches. "I awoke this morning with my wife beside me in the home that we built, and I felt their calling in my chest. I am not long for this world, Cassandra." Tears slip quickly and silently down her nose. "I'm not afraid. Whatever is coming for me, good, bad, or ugly, it was worth what I experienced here, with my family. With you. I should have died with the rest of our siblings, with Mother and Father, that terrible night. I didn't. Everything after has been...a gift."

"A gift for me." She brings his hand up to her mouth, kisses his papery skin with her thin lips. "Your children and grandchildren, they've been a gift to me, too. Thank you for giving me my family back, Percival."

He smiles, and new fatigue washes over him. His eyes blink slow and long, and she pats his hand. "Rest now, brother. You still have work to do."

He wants to argue, but the sleep rushes over him, dark and warm, like smoke.

When Percival de Rolo III awakens for the last time, he is very much not alone. Perched on his left side is Keyleth, timeless and ethereal. The circlet and mantle of her station are gone, and for a moment, they're kids again, the entire world at their feet. Her eyes are glassy, and he has to be impressed that she hasn't started crying yet.

Standing on the foot of the bed, each holding onto a poster, are Pike and Scanlan. Like Keyleth's, neither's face belies much of the past seventy-odd years, but he can't find it in himself to be jealous of all the life they have yet to live. He thinks himself lucky to have had this, such a perfect little slice of the world, fit exactly to size for him.

Between the two of them, already a blubbering mess, is Taryon, the only person in the room who looks the way Percy feels. His liver spots match Percy's, which must drive Tary crazy. He wonders if this is harder or easier for him, given that Tary has already been grieving Lawrence these past six years or so. He hopes that Tary can be of use to Vex, though if he had to guess, he'd think Keyleth is better suited to the task.

Because she is also here, his heart, his Vex'ahlia. She sits at his right hand, where Cass had been earlier, and gently runs her fingers over the inside of his wrist. She has never been anything less the most beautiful creature he's ever seen, and not for the first time, though perhaps for the last, he thanks the gods for allowing her to be his. Well over half a century together, and he knows by the tremulous bob of her throat and the eyes that will not meet his that she is using every ounce of her formidable strength to keep herself in one piece.

"Hey, Percy." He looks back to Scanlan, whose shit-eating grin has not changed a bit in all these years. "If you finally wanted that six-way, you didn't have to say you were dying to get us here. You could have just asked."

Pike punches his shoulder, but Percy laughs. "You'd never...keep up with me...Scanlan."

"Yeah, I bet that's true." He reaches down to pat Percy's foot beneath the blankets. "You always were a better man than me."

"The bar is in hell," Pike grumbles under her breath, and Percy coughs out another laugh. They must be off-again, he guesses. Well, it was nice of them to come, regardless.

"Tary." The man in question cries twice as hard when Percy says his name. "Have I ever told you...how proud I am...of you?"

Tary brings a shaking hand up to wipe at his eyes, and Pike pats his arm reassuringly. "That's what I care about. If a guy like you could see the good in a guy like me...well, I knew I was gonna be okay."

And Tary is more than okay, Percy knows. He's done more good in the world than any of them would have thought possible the day they met him, arrogant and annoying and so very naïve. Percy is proud of him, proud of the work they've done together and apart. Someday, not too long from now, these same people will gather around Tary, usher him as gently from this world as they do for Percy now, and Percy can only hope that they sing his praises as loudly as he deserves.

Pike hops up onto the bed, her socked feet padding over so she can kneel by his elbow in front of Keyleth. She grips her holy symbol, now worn and smoothed, in one hand and rests the other over Percy's heart. "Everlight, please carry my friend into the next life with the same light and compassion he has shown me in our time together." Her voice is strong, but Percy can hear the tremble in it. "As faithful as I have been to you in my life, he has been twice as faithful to me, to his friends, to his family, to the people of Whitestone. And I think you and I both know that faith does not come quite so easily to some as it does to others." She opens one eye to grin at him, and he winks back. She closes the eye again to finish her prayer. "Let his soul rest among his ancestors, and may your benevolent light never stray from those he leaves behind."

There is a long beat of silence, and though his eyes are not what they used to be, Percy swears the mid-afternoon light streaming in from the wrought-iron windows flares just a bit brighter. Pike releases her holy symbol, leans down, and kisses his cheek. "Y'know," she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear, "for someone doomed by the narrative, you did alright for yourself, Percy."

"I couldn't...have done it without you."

The first of Pike's tears falls, and she slips back to the foot of the bed wiping at her eyes. Percy lets his head tip to the side, and Keyleth's face is as red as her hair, her own tears falling fast and loose down cheeks that don't look a day over thirty. "Hey."

"Hey." She sniffs, taking his hand in both of hers. "I know...I have a lot of goodbyes coming my way. Goodbyes I don't even know about because the hellos haven't happened yet. But you...fuck." She scrubs at her eyes with the back of her wrist. "I don't know what my life looks like without you, Percy. I don't wanna find out."

Oh, he truly does not envy her yawning years. He knows no one who deserves to have her heart broken less than Keyleth does, and yet he knows that so much heartbreak awaits her in the millennium to come. He squeezes her hand, and he prays to the Dawnfather that all of that heartbreak does not quiet her, does not harden her heart from the joys this world has to offer. Keyleth was made for sunlight, for spring flowers, for flight. The shadows will come, but they must not dull her shine.

"Keyleth, Voice of the Tempest." He attempts to gather as much authority into his weak voice as he can muster. "I charge you with not just the welfare of Zephrah, but with that of Whitestone, and of Tal'dorei as a whole. There is no one I trust more to act as steward of these people. Your wisdom, your generosity, your empathy...more than ever, you are needed to bestow your gifts upon Exandria. You know..." He smirks up at her. "We've met gods, Keyleth. And this may not be the best time to blaspheme, but they've got nothing on you."

She throws herself onto him, and it hurts, but he takes it. One last hug from his best friend, from the sister he gained after so much loss. Her tears soak into his neck, and for the first time today, his own prickle behind his eyes. He regrets all of the things he will miss, the wonderful accomplishments of his friends, his progeny, his neighbors. It is such a mortal thing, to know that the world will keep spinning in your absence, and to love and hate the spin for it. But someday, even the ageless Voice of the Tempest will rest, and if the gods know any mercy, he will see her again.

Before she pulls away, a shaking, sniffling mess, she whispers in his ear, "Tell him I still love him?"

He nods. He already knows, but Percy will tell him anyways.

As if on cue, there is a small commotion near the one open window on the far side of the chamber, and everyone turns to see a raven, too large to be natural, resting on the sill, as if it has always been there. There is a cracked sob from Percy's right, and he turns his head to see his wife covering her mouth with her hand.

Just enough time left, then.

"Come here." A small tug to her hand, and she's coming up to sit beside him, hip to hip. She brushes his thin, limp hair from his face, and he struggles to bring her hand, wrinkled and beautiful, to his lips. "What a life, eh?"

Her answering smile is watery. "The best one I could have imagined. It's the best gift you've given me."

"Well, I gave you quite a lot."

"It's my love language, darling, and you were always so fluent."

He laughs at that, and it dissolves into a cough. The raven flutters its wings in his periphery. "Let them take care of you?" His eyes cast over their friends before returning to her crumpled face. "We didn't create this wonderful life together for you to be alone when I'm gone. There are so many people who love you, Vex'ahlia de Rolo, and while I will always be the first among them, in this world or the next, I am not worried for you."

Her hair, unbraided and streaked with silver, spills onto his chest as she leans over him. "I'm not worried for you, either. I know that wherever you're going, I'll find you. I'll always find you. It's kind of my thing, after all." She sniffs loudly. "So take my heart with you, alright? I'll want it back when I get there."

"My extraordinary, incomparable wife. My heart, my judgement. My treasure, my salvation."

Crying, she kisses him, and it feels just like it did that first time, in a snow-capped wood, when they were kids and death was just another monster they could slay. He tastes the salt of her tears and the warmth of her skin and he knows every agony, every loss, every sorrow was always and will always be worth her. For the briefest moment, his heart pinches, a desperate wish to stay, but when his final kiss with his wife ends, he's smiling, because how many men can go to their deathbeds with no regrets?

He looks to his friends once more, each one a gift, a story, a legacy, and with a fading voice, says, "Vox Machina. What an honor it's been to change the world with you." His eyelids feel so heavy; he's already slept so much today. To his wife, he murmurs, "Dear, do you mind if I rest for a moment?"

"Of course, darling." She bends down to kiss his cheek. "Rest now. I'll be here."

The last things he sees are Vex's shining eyes, and across the room, a raven taking flight.

When Percy opens his eyes, he sees them, his friends, their heads bowed and shoulders trembling. They are circled around his deathbed, and Percy watches them mourn. It's far and away the strangest scene he's ever beheld.

"Percival Frederickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III."

He turns, a smile already coming to his face. Oh, the ease with which he moves! He looks down at his hands—smooth and dexterous, hands he hasn't seen in years. "Would you look at that."

The black-feathered figure in the corner of the room is masked, so Percy can't see his face, but Percy doesn't need to see the smirk to feel it. "A handsome bastard once again, I see."

"Screw you, I was always handsome."

"No arguments here." The Champion of Ravens strides closer, and Percy can't help but feel a bit intimidated. "Welcome home, brother."

And they are embracing, reunited after so many decades of grief. "Thank you," Vax murmurs, in his strange, not-quite-Vax voice. "Thank you for taking care of them."

"It was my privilege." They separate, and the two dead men look at the ones they've left behind. "We still felt your loss. Every day, we navigated the hole your absence created. Them in particular." He gestures to Vex and Keyleth, who hold hands over his body's torso as they weep. "I just hope I did enough to help them find the way."

"You did. And now it's my turn." Vax sweeps a hand back, and the door to the chamber opens, but instead of the marbled hall he's used to, Percy sees only a brilliant, blinding white light.

Percy frowns. "Is Grog in there? To be honest, I thought he'd be the first to greet me. You know how bored he gets without someone to entertain him."

"I'm afraid I don't know. I only walk to dead to their doors. I don't get to see what's inside."

For the first time today, Percy's heart well and truly breaks. "Well, just know that as long as they live—" He jerks his head toward the remaining members of Vox Machina. "—your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

"I live as long as they live."

Percy chuckles. "First the mask, now the quotes—you want to be me so bad."

"Get in the light before I throw your ass in there, Freddie."

Grinning, Percy claps him on the shoulder as he passes by, letting is strong legs and youthful knees take him toward the door. Just a step away from the frame, he stops, bathed in the warm, mysterious light. He looks back one last time at his family, wonderful and perfect and his, and murmurs, "What a nice story, indeed." And then he steps into the light.

#percahliaweek #percahliaweek23 #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia fic #my fic #perc'ahlia week #perc'ahlia week 2023

83 notes · View notes

missizzy · 8 months

Text

Perc'ahlia Week Day 4 Fic

They started practicing with each other's weapons during that first year they took off from adventuring. By then, Whitestone's rifle corps was turning from a group thrown together to prepare for a possible dragon attack to a permanent institution. Percy fought against it at first, but already accounts were trickling in of where Ripley had sold her guns and possibly even her designs, and once it became clear they could not be suppressed, he instead became determined that Whitestone would at least be the strongest with them. That might be why, one morning, he turned to Vex and sad she should probably at least learn how to shoot with the smaller gun.

After a few evening (the first of them rather embarrassing, honestly), Vex got pretty good at hitting even relatively small targets at quite a distance. But she couldn't say she liked it. It was too loud, and the smell was unpleasant, and the metal felt alien in her hands. Plus she thought if she tried to use it regularly, the jamming and breaking would drive her crazy.

Percy conceded her points when she told him all this. It also left him concerned about how himself smelled to her, but she was quick to reassure him she minded the smell less when it was faded and mixed with his general scent. She even demonstrated to him exactly how much she didn't mind his smell at all.

He did get her to still occasionally go to the range and practice with the pistol. Sometimes she ended up doing so alongside the rifle corps members, and they generally clapped and cheered her on, the baroness training alongside them. She even ended up recruiting a couple of them into the Grey Hunt part time, thought she did insist they learn the use of stealthier, more reliable weapons as well, for that.

When she first said Percy should try to learn how to use a bow, Vex meant it half as a joke. But somehow it turned serious quick, and it wasn't at all long after she found herself talking him through the use of the oldest and simplest of her bows. He struggled with it way more than Vex had with the gun; she's not sure she wouldn't have given up, honestly, had she been in his place.

But Percy was a determined son of a bitch when he wanted to be, and he persisted with it. He never got nearly as good as her, of course, but he got to be a pretty decent shot.

He even took some shots with her more magic bows, culminating with that memorable day when he (accidentally) took down a bird with Fenthras. Although when the dead bird landed on the castle, the staff was not too happy about the resulting tree. He stuck to her other bows after that.

Back in the field, they stayed with their normal weapons, the ones they knew how to win with. But from then on, they knew they could at least try to fall back on each other's, too, if need be. It also helped them read each other's moves in combat better, be more prepared for what each of them did. And sometimes, when Vex stood with her husband's gun on the range during practice, she thought she understood him better overall, and she hoped the same was true for him.

#critical role #vox machina #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia week #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia

10 notes · View notes

bookish-blood · 9 months

Text

I was looking forward to writing something or other for Perc'ahlia Week (especially since I haven't written anything for a loong time), but I've read so many posts about how bad it is when you don't get the characters right, that I don't even want to try anymore. I guess I'll just stick to reading all the new fanfiction.

#hate how insecure I am about my writing #i don't mind if characters are a bit ooc #perc'ahlia week #but reading

0 notes

etoilesdeglace · 1 year

Photo

“Ugh, I’m as cold as a corpse”

1K notes · View notes

aq2003 · 9 months

Text

day 1 of perc'ahlia week: dawn/treasure

(c3 era!)

#percy de rolo #vex'ahlia #perc'ahlia #critical role #vox machina #bells hells #cr #cr1 #cr3 #my art #percahliaweek #percahliaweek23 #kicking off perc'ahlia week with um. A loose interpretation of the prompt. it fits them bc they fuckin rich baby girl #to be so honest i wanted an excuse to draw them in this era and well. :)

314 notes · View notes

katia-dreamer · 7 months

Text

Dawn

Vex wakes up lying on top of a hard surface that is only marginally softened by her cloak. She’s also naked and quite cold.

Where is she?

She hears a familiar deep groan beside her and finally opens her eyes. Her dark vision allows her to see Percy beside her and the piles of money and jewels surrounding them. That’s when she remembers the night before when Percival gave her a tour of the treasury while they shared a bottle of wine. She recalls the kisses that quickly led to more and the indulgent sex that followed.

She sighs as she moves slightly closer to Percy. Her skin brushes against his, and Percy shivers.

“You are cold,” he grumbles, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“I’m sorry, darling,” she answers. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” he assures her.

“We fell asleep down here.”

“We did.”

Vex laughs, and Percy does too. His hands rest on her waist, giving her a gentle squeeze. The gesture is more familiar than before, and even though his skin is cold, she honestly doesn’t mind. “That was probably not our wisest decision.”

“No, it wasn't. Do you know what time it is?”

“No idea.”

She rests her cheek on his chest, and his heartbeat is a lovely rhythm against her skin. She enjoys the sensation while she drinks in the wonderful sight of all the treasure surrounding them. “I’m glad you brought me down here, darling. But maybe-”

“We should move elsewhere? Agreed.”

They get up, and Vex hurriedly slips into her clothes, warmth slowly starting to chase away the chill that has crept into her bones. She finds the candle from last night and relights it so Percy can see. Percival does not bother getting fully re-dressed, simply choosing to don his trousers and shirt with his coat buttoned up over the top, leaving his waistcoat hanging over one arm. She takes his hand and leads him away from the vault. As they walk through the deserted hallways, more light gradually appears. When they arrive upstairs, they get their first glimpse of the beautiful, soft dawn spiling into the castle through the high windows.

“I’m going back to bed,” Percy grumbles.

“You do that.” She smiles at him. “I’m going to take a walk.”

He rolls his eyes but then gives her a quick peck on the cheek. “Will I see you later?”

“At breakfast.”

Percy brushes his hand through her hair, which she has yet to rebraid. (He’d been particular about it being loose last night. ) He is pensive for a moment, and she thinks he might say something, but then he must decide against it because he gives her one last kiss and then goes on his way.

Vex, on the other hand, goes out the door and heads to the Parchwood.

She knows that something is simmering inside of her, that there is a wound she’s ignoring, but she does not want to think about Scanlan right now.

She is determined to enjoy a morning with only the vibrant world of the forest and the dawn to keep her company.

#katie writes things #cr1 #cr fanfic #perc'ahlia #sooooooo this was originally written for perc'ahlia week but for many reasons i didn't post it #and i've been debating if i should post them at allllll #and i'm still unsure it's the right thing to do- but maybe I'll just post my favorites

77 notes · View notes

topaz-mutiny · 4 months

Text

Okay so for me this is less an actual fanfic thing and more an opinion of mine being put through the lens of these characters, because my brain won’t stay quiet, and things that have happened in the campaign so far have changed my thoughts on how I feel about interactions between the characters. I used to be incredibly neutral on this, until we learned of the existence of a primordial fire shard.

So the TL;DR of my argument is: Ashrym now, Callowmoore later, after the characters, the cast, and some fans stop being weird and overly-pushy with the “it’s destiny” thing.

Maybe you agree, maybe you don't. Maybe you change your mind, if not nbd.

Contains spoilers up to and including episode 85 of Bells Hells. Nothing happens beyond a lot of swearing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There wasn’t really any discussion between Bells Hells about where to camp and rest after this terrifying, extensive, exhausting day – only a collective effort to finagle everyone through the waterspout and into the portal that Fearne had discovered. From there it was easy to emerge from the mountain lake and find what looked like a decent spot to set up camp.

Fearne offered to stay up on watch first; she needed some time to think about what happened today. She didn’t like feeling scared. And today definitely had a lot of things that scared her.

First watch went by relatively fine, which was a relief since Fearne was so pre-occupied, and then it was time to wake up those who would be on second-watch. She watched Ashton be roused, and he wandered to a decent spot to take up watch. Looking around, he seemed far away from the other person up on watch, and everyone else was settled into sleep. They were, perhaps, far enough away that the two of them could have a brief conversation before she cuddled up with Orym.

Her quiet approach was ruined by a yawn that escaped her mouth. She really was exhausted like everyone else, but this felt important. “Hey.” She said through the end of her yawn.

“Hey.” They grunted back. “Aren’t you heading to bed?”

“Maybe in a little bit.” Fearne resisted another yawn. And then, “Today was a little fucked up.” Ashton gave out a deep, gravelly chuckle.

“Yeeeaah. Yeah it was.” He said. “Fuck.” Fearne noticed a quick side-eye Ashton gave her, and they looked… worried. “Didn’t think you wanted to talk so soon after… fuck, you know.” They shrugged ineffectually.

Shit, right. She steepled her fingers, tapping them together as she thought about it.

“Okay, well, I maybe am still a little bit mad about it.” Fearne refrained from saying who she was mad at, maybe even mad at multiple people. She had looked away, but still caught the flinch in Ashton’s reaction. “But that’s not what I wanna talk about. I wanna talk about…” about what? The Ludinus funnel? FCG almost dying right in front of her (though she Had A Plan, she thought, don’t worry about it)? Otohan’s reaction to her being Ruidusborn? What that meant when butted up against the reality that she was a designer-baby? “… stuff.”

“… Okaaay?” Ashton looked hapless.

“IthinkIwannatalkaboutdestiny” Fearne blurted out. Ashton blinked at her. “I mean, I wanna talk about me. Stuff I’m being told about me. Stuff that’s–“ making me scared, she omits “– that I don’t think I like very much.”

“Ah.” There was a shift in Ashton’s posture, and they looked a lot more comfortable. Empathetic. That’s why Fearne singled out Ashton after all, they too kind of were dealing, dealt with, this stuff too. Even though she was still mad about it.

“When we were trying to get away from Otohan, she said something that kind of fucked me up a little.” Fearne started explaining, “She said I was, like, central to some of their plans? And it made me think about how I was made, instead of born, and… and I don’t like it.” She doubly didn’t like it, because wasn’t Imogen supposed to be the one central to their plans? The super special savior of Predathos? “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

There was a small pause.

“I’m not sure if I’m allowed an opinion on this shit anymore.” Ashton finally responded, “The last time I got fucked up by this destiny bullshit I…” he suddenly got very quiet “… exploded. Fuckin’ literally.”

Yes, we know, Ashton. We were there. Fearne thought about his agonized confession that they’d rather die than hurt Fearne like that. During Fearne’s watch, Fearne had started to worry that she might be next, and she absolutely did not want to hurt her friends (especially Orym) like that. Her brows furrowed.

“I think something or someone is pushing me to explode.”

“You… want me to keep an eye out?”

“Maybe. I dunno.”

“Fearne, fuck, whatever you want me to fuckin’ do, just tell me.” Ashton’s stare was intense, serious. As Fearne peered a little closer she noticed his body language screamed regret, anxiety, pleading. Like they’d do anything for anyone of the Hells, please don’t leave them.

Fearne huffed. “I don’t know! Maybe I just wanted to tell someone, and I told you, because you got a little messed up and now I’m getting messed up too.” Ashton nodded, as though that made sense, though Fearne could still sense the tension.

There was a significantly longer pause. Fearne made no move to go to bed. Yet. And eventually was the first to speak up again.

“And I also wanted to talk now because if it were any other time I think the others would push us to kiss or something right about now.” Fearne looked at Ashton. Ashton cleared their throat, embarrassment flushing his cheeks.

“Ah, yeah. They can mind their own fuckin’ business.”

“It is a little weird.”

Ashton was turning redder. Purple-r? Dark green-er? Fearne forgot what color his blush was and couldn’t see well enough in the dark.

“Plus there’s that shard bullshit.” Ashton said.

“Huh?”

“Everyone started getting really weird about us after these fucking shards became a thing. More destiny bullshit.”

“Oh.” That’s right. The shards were from Primordial lovers, or something. Bells Hells didn’t just make that up, did they?

He doesn’t say it out loud, but Fearne could easily imagine Ashton saying “Fuck destiny.” They definitely seemed like they were resisting saying something. Being nice? Or thinking that they don’t deserve to have an opinion? Would they have been okay with it if their friends were just regularly cajoling and these lover shards didn’t exist?

Well, that kind of sucks.

Despite her lingering anger over The Shard Incident, what she told Chetney afterwards was still true. She liked him a little bit, whatever that meant. And she still maybe wanted to do things that made them happy. Maybe. A little. And it didn’t seem like a full-on Laudna and Imogen style relationship was going to do that; would probably make them feel even more uncomfortable and think it’s all just because of the shards and not that they kind of maybe like each other for realsies.

It was kind of hard to realize that was what she was feeling, but now that she articulated it to Chetney, it was a lot easier to notice. And that Ashton might kind of sort of feel the same? But they’re refusing to act on it now because of the shards.

“Yeah, fuck destiny.” Fearne says. Ashton starts to look relieved. Maybe they can talk about it later, after they talk about The Shard Incident and she stops feeling mad at them and herself, after the topic of the shards becomes a vague background memory to everyone else. An intrusive thought streaks through her mind – the thought that she’d be fine if they just became friends with benefits – and maybe she’d think about that later when she’s not mad. Maybe.

She was feeling a little better, to her relief. Now that someone else besides FCG knows what Otohan said to her, it felt a bit less like she was going to get strangled by her own worries. But she didn’t want to go to bed yet.

What she did want to do right now was make Ashton happy. And her own feelings weren’t the only things Fearne had started to notice. And realized she probably would have noticed retroactively. The shards, currently, were a problem, for one way to make Ashton happy right now. But there was another way that kind of sounded fun to get the ball rolling, at least until they could talk more. Ashton seemed about ready to tell her to go to bed, the start of an inhale.

Zero warning. No decorum. Fearne dove in headfirst as she always does.

“So when are you going to tell Orym that you like him?”

Ashton’s inhale became a strangled noise of coughing as he started choking on their own spit. Fearne, for her part, looked Absolutely Innocent (mischievous) as the genasi struggled to quiet their coughs before it could wake up the entire group, or draw the attention of the other person on watch.

“Fearne, what the fuck?” Ashton’s voice was pitched low to a panicked whisper, hoarse from coughing.

“What?” Perfectly innocent smile. Ashton tried to wheeze back an answer, but couldn’t through trying to suppress more coughing, and failing to suppress the extreme flustered blush that now covered their entire face, obvious even in the darkness. “If everyone wasn’t so focused on the shards I’m pretty sure they would’ve noticed too.”

“But – fuck – I don’t… where did… he’s–“ Ashton stuttered. They covered their face with their hands and groaned, “The fuck do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do I mean?”

“You’re saying I, fuck, I… fucking…”

“Like Orym, my very best friend.”

“That. What does that mean? And might fuckin not, you don’t know. I don’t know. Fuck!”

Fearne thought about it. She didn’t know like, a definition.

“You don’t know?” she asked.

“No. Maybe? No.” his emphatic response.

“But you’re feeling something.” Ashton tried crushing their face even further into their hands.

“And what the fuck is it?” Ashton demanded. Their hands still covered their face, absolutely refusing to look at her. He almost looked like he wanted to run off the nearest cliff.

Hmm. Did Ashton seriously know less about these kinds of feelings than she did? Was that what he was trying to explain?

“It’s like…” Fearne thought about the little tryst she had with Deanna and Chetney. It was fun, and glorious, and she was excited, but… no, not exactly what she was asking about Ashton and Orym. She thought about Imogen and Laudna, and their recent admission to being together. That was kind of it, but didn’t seem like the right kind of description. Fearne thought about why she brought this up in the first place.

“It’s like, wanting to hang out a bit more…” she began. Ashton looked like he was glaring at her through his hands, but it was probably still out of embarrassment. He was paying very close attention to what she was saying. “… and also, maybe, saying and doing nice things for someone, just because. Something chaotic and random." Ashton removed their hands from their face and settled on having their arms crossed. Their face was still darkened with a blush, but were at least willing to show it now. Was there anything else? “And sometimes it feels like you drank a hard liquor and your stomach gets all hot, but you never even get tipsy.”

Ashton still looked like they wanted to throw themselves off a cliff.

“Does that sound familiar?” Fearne asked when Ashton failed to respond to her rambling. Some small night bird let out a haunting call.

Ashton mumbled something under their breath, at last, but Fearne couldn’t hear.

“Ashton?”

“… You’re really gonna make me fuckin say it out loud, aren’t you?” Ashton grumbled.

“You don’t have to.” Fearne said. She thought about Chetney. “But it might help.”

“Fuuuck.” Ashton pinched the bridge of his nose before looking away, refusing to make eye contact with the impossible faun. “So, maybe, hypothetically, some of what you said sounds a little fucking familiar.”

“And?”

“And maybe, I might tell Orym about it.”

“Soon?”

“This is a big fucking maybe, Fearne. Besides, you remember what Orym said, right?” and now, Ashton was questioning her.

“About what?”

“About whether or not it’s okay to miss Dorian.”

It kind of crushed her soul to remember Orym’s confession. She missed Dorian lots, oh so much, and she was pretty sure Orym did too. Orym was her best friend, and they traveled so much together. And he still felt… guilty. Over being a widower and having new friends and family (and maybe more?). But he also said how horrifically lonely he was, even with Fearne there right beside him.

She looked at Orym, curled up by the fire, and frowned.

“Maybe that’s something you two can talk about. After you tell him what you’re feeling.” Fearne offered. Ashton looked skeptical. Like he was thinking he would immediately fuck everything up. “Orym’s not going to be mean about it, I don’t think.”

“No,” Ashton agreed, “He’s going to be sad and guilty about it. And then I’m gonna feel fucking sad and guilty about it.”

Fearne smiled, “I think that’s why Orym needs his friends, Ashton. To help him feel less sad and guilty.”

“Orym would disagree.”

“I’m not saying he should stop feeling those things. Will was very important to Orym. Still is important. But… it’s eating him alive.”

“Hmm.”

“He might do something stupid and reckless because of it.”

“You think Orym’s a time bomb?”

“Maybe a little one.” Fearne sighed, then walked up to Ashton and pointed at his chest. “Tell him you like him. It’ll be good for you. Whatever happens after, happens after, so don’t worry about it right now.”

“I don’t even know if that’s true.” Ashton shrugged, leaning away. “But fine, I maybe. Might. Might, Fearne.” He stressed as Fearne started smiling deviously at him.

Good enough, she supposed. “Ooookaay then. Have a good night.” She sauntered over to the sleeping Orym, and began to curl over him to sleep, leaving Ashton standing in the moonlight, thinking.

Fearne was feeling a lot better.

#critical role #fearne calloway #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #ashrym #callowmoore #bells hells #me last week: fuck I think I ship Ashrym now #you can probably tell I'm not a fan of soulmate or destined bonds stuff #and Ashton learned their lesson about recklessly chasing destiny #Ashton “Fuck Destiny” Greymoore is a mood #also Fearne would absolutely be the instigator of shenanigans #will Orym speak up first or will Ashton speak up first? Both are incorrect: The real answer is Fearne #honestly after Orym's confessions any ship with him is going to be a Long Burn that could rival Perc'ahlia #thanks for coming to my Ted Talk disguised as a fanfic

50 notes · View notes

mushrooms-and-antlers · 9 months

Text

Vex's Journal (modern au)

Vignettes of the story of Vex'ahlia de Rolo, Baroness of the First House of Whitestone, Champion of Pelor, Coinmistress of the Tal'Dorei Council, and Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt told through the pages of her journal.

#perc'ahlia #percy de rolo #percy de blorbo #vexahlia #cr1 #perc'ahlia week 2023 #critical role #vex #vex'ahlia #percahlia #percival de rolo

62 notes · View notes

jae-birde · 9 months

Text

Perc'ahlia Week | Day 2 | Legacy

(Click image for better quality)

Day 2 of @percahliaweek

Darkness/Legacy

30 notes · View notes

crithaus · 10 months

Text

I'd drawn the perfect Vex face facing straight and sideways and not tilted slightly away from camera and to the side like the original painting's model is and then I decided to put on my big girl shorts and try it anyway and I Don't like it and head angles are very hard but I'm being very brave and pushing onwards so another little wip of all Belle Vex avec Merci

#critical role #vox machina #percy de rolo #perc'ahlia #vex'ahlia de rolo #vex'ahlia #perc'ahlia week will be jumping i promise #wip

291 notes · View notes

waltwhitmansbeard · 9 months

Text

Perc'ahlia Week Day 2: Darkness/Legacy

day 2 of @percahliaweek! ngl this one got away from me. also available on ao3!

BOOM.

Percy jolts upright, eyes straining in the darkness. Only by the sliver of moonlight peering through the heavy drapes is he able to see Vex beside him, shoving herself up from her own pillow. "Was that—"

"A gunshot." Saying the word out loud kicks something inside Percy into gear, and he twists around to fumble for his glasses on the nightstand.

"Oh gods." Vex throws back the covers. "The kids."

They hurl themselves out of bed, hurtle toward the door, Vex pausing only to snatch her dressing gown from where she'd hung it on one of the bed's posters. Still, she's faster than he is, doesn't have the aging knees that he has. Without discussing it, they split up once they reach the wing of the castle that houses the children's bedrooms. Percy gets to Danny's room first, and when he creaks the door open, the low lights from the hall sconces light up the riot of curls on his pillow. He closes the door just in time for the one next door to open.

"Dad?" Vesper rubs at her eyes, her hair braided over one shoulder exactly the way her mother taught her.

"Go back into your room."

"Did I hear a gunshot?"

Before Percy can answer, Vex is there, her face drawn. "Gwen's fine, but the twins' rooms are empty."

The shadows pull long as her words settle onto his shoulders like a mantle. The twins are gone. There was a gunshot. Percy can feel each and every heartbeat in his throat. Vesper's face is pale as her hair. Percy tries to regulate the tremble in his hand as he grips onto his eldest's shoulder, but he's sure she can feel it when he says, "Please stay here and keep an eye on them." He watches the resolve harden in her eye, her spine every inch her mother's. She nods.

They can hear them now, the roused guards within and without, but they simply cannot wait. Percy and Vex tear back to their bedroom, each yanking on boots and grabbing the weapon that, even all these years later, is never far from hand. They must pass three dozen guards before they make it to the grand foyer, where Captain Leore is waiting for them. "Lord and Lady de Rolo, scouts report the gunshot came from the Parchwood on the western edge of the castle grounds."

"Search the castle from top to bottom for the twins," Vex commands, her voice a godly echo among the marble. "They're unaccounted for. We're joining the hunt outside."

There is no argument, not when the Lady of Whitestone speaks. The captain ducks his head in a bow and is off, instructing the surrounding guards to begin the tossing of Castle Whitestone. Percy shares one more look with his wife—he is equal parts terrified and admiring, and he hopes she can tell them apart—before they shove out together onto the sprawling blue-black lawns of the castle grounds.

The moon is waning, hardly brighter than the surrounding stars, so they charge forward in inky darkness. She can see better than he can, of course, so he lets her take the lead. She's also far more intimately familiar with these woods at this point, spending so much time with the Grey Hunt as she does, so when they reach the treeline and what little light they had is swallowed wholly by the thick canopy above, he relies on the sound of her footsteps over the leaf litter to figure out where she's going.

It's torturous, this hunt, when Percy can see nothing and has no idea what he's hunting. He should have stayed inside, should be helping search for his missing children, but he knows, he knows they're not in there, the way he knows the weapon in his hand, the way he knows the woman in front of him, and so he inches forward, waiting, hoping for—

"Don't move!" Vex's sharp command is punctuated by the familiar creak of her bow being raised, and Percy whips his own pistol into the air, even though he has no clue what to aim for. There's a distant crunch of footsteps, one, then another, and then a small, "Mum?"

"Wolfe!" And then Vex is running, and Percy is lost. He tries to stumble after her, but she's too quick, too consumed with asking their son a thousand questions at once. "Are you hurt? What are you doing here? Did you hear the gunshot? Where is your sister?"

"Vex'ahlia." Percy hates that he has to ask, but he is blind.

Vex sniffs. "Right, sorry darling." There's some fumbling, and then Vex, more at home in the woods than he think she'll ever be in a castle, lifts up the small torch she's made of fallen twigs.

She's standing just a few yards away, next to Wolfe, who is dressed in dark clothes and who, Percy can see now, has blood on his hands. His stomach swoops low, a high buzz of panic in his ear. He charges forward, grabs Wolfe by the arm. "Where is your sister?"

The boy—for gods' sake, he is just a boy, a kid, scarcely out of leading strings—swallows hard, then whispers, "There was an accident." Before Percy can pass out, Wolfe continues, "Follow me."

Then he spins, breaking out of Percy's grasp—just a boy, but then, Percy is no longer young himself—and charging deeper into the Parchwood. Percy can't even look at Vex as they follow, can't see the terror in her eyes that courses through his own veins. There was an accident. Is this fate, then? An accident, one twin ripped from the other, a lifetime of absence, a limb severed—

"Le, I found them!" Wolfe crashes to the forest floor behind a massive oak, and Percy and Vex come around, hearts racing and breath short, to see their daughter slumped against the roots, her wild dark curls matted and filled with debris, both hands clutching her side. Beside her, one of the Rifle Corps' weapons glints threateningly in the light from Vex's torch.

"Holy shit!" Percy barely has the wherewithal to catch the torch that Vex launches at him as she collapses to Leona's side. He watches blood gurgle up between Leona's fingers, her face pale and expression weak. "Darling, look at me."

"Hey, Mum," Leona says with a halfhearted smile. "Funny seeing you here."

"It's alright, dear, I've got you." Vex gently pries Leona's hands away, humming apologetically when she hisses in pain, and then settles her own fingers over the wound. Within a few seconds, Vex's magic works its way into her skin, the edges stitching themselves back together.

Leona lets out a big sigh, her eyes sliding shut. "That...that helps."

Vex's arms snatch Leona up, clutching her to her chest. "You scared the shit out of us, both of you."

Wolfe starts to stammer, an apology, an explanation, Percy's not sure, but he doesn't get the chance to say anything, because Percy grabs him by the collar and shoves him mercilessly against a nearby tree. "Are you fucking proud of yourself?"

"D-Dad, I—"

Percy brings the torch close to his face, so the heat makes sweat bead along his brow, so he can see the fear and shame in his eyes. "Where did you get it?" Wolfe's completely blanched, his mouth gaping like a fish's. "Answer me!"

"I took it!"

The torch light dances as Percy's hand shakes. "Percival..." Vex's warning does little to pacify him. "And what, just decided to shoot your sister?"

"Dad, it was my fault." From behind him, Percy can hear Leona try to straighten up, but Vex fusses to press her back down. "I tried to take it from him, it's my fault we were tugging over it—"

"I just wanted to try it out, I swear I didn't mean to do anything, I was gonna put it back in the morning—"

Wolfe is fully sobbing now, and he should be. A few inches in, and there is a new de Rolo to add to the crypt beneath Castle Whitestone. A few inches in, and Wolfe lives the rest of his life knowing the exquisite agony that his mother will carry with her to her grave.

He tightens his fingers in Wolfe's shirt. He wants to explode, to set the Parchwood ablaze, to search each and every square inch of Exandria until he has recovered the last of the evil he has wrought upon this world. His daughter almost died tonight, at the hands of her brother, with one of the weapons that Percy himself built.

"This is my fault." He lets go of Wolfe, who shrinks down against the tree trunk, his dark eyes, his mother's eyes, wet and wide. "This is my legacy. Both of you." He turns to look at Leona, who's crying now as well, before looking down at the gun on the ground, so silent and still. "That too. I thought maybe I could pick and choose. If I brought enough good into this world, I could eclipse all the bad I created." He steps away from Wolfe to pick up the gun, quickly spilling all of its remaining ammunition onto the forest floor before tucking it into the pocket of his pajama trousers. "We can discuss the ways your lives will be miserable for the foreseeable future in the morning. For now..." He shoves the torch at Wolfe, who scrambles to take it. "Come on, let's get home."

He's still trembling as he and Vex lift Leona to her feet. The wound is healed, but she's still sore. She's too big for Percy to carry now, or maybe he's too old, but either way, she has to walk with one arm around each of her parents' necks, and it is a slow, limping walk back toward the castle.

Wolfe leads the way, lighting the path so Percy can see where he's going. When there's a bit of space between them, Leona turns her head to whisper, "It really was an accident, Daddy. It's no one's fault."

He offers her what smile he can, because she, too, is just a kid, and she doesn't know that she's wrong. There is so much fault, so much blame to go around, but it is late, and it can wait until later.

"Don't worry about it now, cub." He kisses her cheek. "I'm just...very happy you're okay."

"Me too."

He tightens his arm around her, feels the even in-and-out of her lungs, and prays to whichever god is listening that the lights of his life are never snuffed out by his legacy of darkness.

#percahliaweek #percahliaweek23 #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #my fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia fic #perc'ahlia week

50 notes · View notes

missizzy · 9 months

Text

Perc'ahlia Week Day 3 Fic

Vex would later think Trinket has sensed something off about Percy from the beginning, probably without consciously realizing it. Not that she thought animals could magically sense evil things like demons, but she'd known their abilities to sense things like earthquakes and storms, things that could threaten them and theirs.

Of course he was nervous around each of their new companions when they first joined them, though he took to Keyleth surprisingly quickly. (And when Vex would've thought the opposite; her changing species must have seemed bizarre to him at first.) It wouldn't be until Tary joined them that he showed himself more used to new friends coming in. So it made sense when he was initially wary of Percy.

When the possibility of marrying Percy started feeling like more of a probability, Vex asked Trinket, on a lazy day where she could cast Speak with Animals multiple times without worry, what he thought about that. Trinket was generally happy with the idea; he knew Percy made her happy, and had become convinced he'd make a good mate, too. "I think he was a threat once, but now he just protects us, right?"

Vex regretted then that she couldn't really ask him what he meant by that; getting that sort of nuance was beyond the abilities the spell gave them. Although Trinket, since he had reached adulthood, had witnessed enough behavior from the people around him that he could usually tell the basics of what was going on. And of course, not only had he been present for the conversations they'd had with Percy when they'd been trying to free Whitestone, but he'd first seen the smoke, and then even delivered the final blow on the entity responsible when they'd first fought him.

So he might have easily just meant all that. But it was then that she also thought how how he'd constantly been sniffing at Percy and looking nervous around him during his first days with the group, and so also wondered if he'd marked Percy as a threat for much longer, for different reasons. Or maybe his having the sticks that made big scary noises had just freaked him out, and the behavior before he first fired them had been because he'd been the only newcomer to focus on.

In any case, Vex hadn't needed magic to understand Trinket's behavior when he was one of the few present when she married Percy. The way he ruffled against him and and growled softly spoke an obvious message she translated for him: Trinket would give Percy a fair chance to be a good mate, but would keep a sharp eye on him nonetheless. Of course, Percy declared himself quite glad to know Trinket was doing his part both keeping him in check, and protecting Vex.

Her thoughts about what Trinket could sense in Percy returned one more time: during her fourth pregnancy, where a constantly elevated body temperature served as an indication their fifth child might turn out to be a Tiefling. Trinket, who had already shown an ability to detect her pregnancies himself and maybe get more solicitous of her as a result, this time, on one still early day, went sniffing at her womb, then stared as her with an expression so flummoxed she very nearly laughed.

Except it wasn't entirely funny, as she then cast the spell and asked him, "You don't think I'm being threatened, do you? You've never had a problem with Zahra, not really."

"A cub's never a threat!" Trinket exclaimed. "And you don't smell like Zahra, you smell like Percy when he was dangerous. It's weird."

Most of that was reassuring, but Vex did feel the need to ask, "You won't go ask him for inflicting this particular baby on me, will you?"

Trinket seemed to have to think about that for a moment, but then said, "Not so long as he continues to be good to you and to all your cubs."

He got over the smell, after that. It was true he'd never had a problem with Tieflings, and when Gwen was born, she really was like her siblings had been to him. Vex wasn't sure if he really even understood how she was different, even if she'd cause her mother to smell different. He did seem to eye Percy a little more in the days following the birth, but if anything he was even more of an attentive husband and father than he had already been, and Trinket probably couldn't even recognize the guilt in his eyes. Bears didn't feel guilt, beyond maybe an occasional immediate and brief reaction to having gotten someone they cared about hurt.

Ultimately, by that time in his life, Trinket definitely had his own views about mates and the raising of cubs. They were ones, Vex knew, that weren't a normal bear's views, if a normal bear's attitudes towards the subject could even be called that. This became very clear when, not long after Gwen's birth, he unexpectedly found a mate of his own.

He really hadn't had much contact with other bears in general, and none for years, when a female bear wandered into the Parchwood and made it her home. Trinket actually found her by himself weeks before anyone in the Grey Hunt did, and they found it suitable to mate with each other soon after that. But then Trinket showed her Whitestone, and managed to communicate to her that he wanted them to raise their cubs together in the castle, which had confused her greatly.

"Boy bears don't do that," she explained to Vex, when they magically conversed for the first time. "I know some boy animals do that, but bears don't. My mom mated with my dad, then they went away from each other, and she raised me without him, and I can raise my cubs the same way."

It made Vex think for the first time that maybe what she'd done with Trinket, raising him so much in the world of people, especially when she and Vax had stopped living so much in the woods, had been a little bit of an extreme thing to do with a bear. Not a wrong thing, necessarily, if only because there hadn't been many options when she'd first taken him away, but still.

Eventually, the idea of having constant warmth and food available brought Trinket's new mate to the castle shortly before she gave birth. Both she and Trinket warned Vex, though, that she had no intention of being a fully domesticated bear. She even requested they not give her a name. "Animals have names when they belong to people," she said. "I won't belong to people." Vex duly instructed everyone to not name her; she could be referred to easily enough just as "Trinket's mate."

Percy had already agreed to take her in, and he even allocated the bears their own space within the castle, one that made it easy enough for them to also act as guard bears when they were there and awake. But Vex, to her own private amusement, sometimes thought his reaction to her was not unlike Trinket's friendly but ever watchful reaction to him had been.

"Well, of course I have concerns," Percy said to her. "Remember wild bears often view people as for eating, even if Trinket has no doubt made clear to her we aren't, and you even said she won't be tamed entirely. But if she has accepted we're not to be harmed, well, then, let Trinket have his mate here, right alongside yours."

She came and went as she pleased, sometimes disappearing off into the woods for days at a time. After Charlie was born, she usually took him with her, determined he would know how to live as a wild bear as well. Sometimes Trinket went with them, too, and Vex thought he looked a bit refreshed when they came back. Which kept her from minding; indeed, she couldn't help but admire her determination.

She also responded more to the advent of winter than Trinket did. Neither of them had to fully hibernate when living in Whitestone, but even as he showed all the signs of how much older than her-and most other bears-he was, she was the only who slowed down and was much less inclined to step outside the castle once it got cold enough. Which, ironically, meant that when little Vax'ildan and Charlie decided that was when they wanted to venture out on their own for the first time, it was her, sleepy and possibly also pregnant again, who stayed behind in the castle, and Vex and Trinket who walked them to the outskirts of town.

There Vex hugged her son, whispered him her various reminders all over, and told her she loved him, while the bears said farewell with soft sounds and headbutts. They stood together, listening, until their sons could no longer be heard even by Trinket's ears.

On the way, Trinket gave Vex the specific whine that had become his way of requesting she cast Speak with Animals. When she did, he said, "I think Allura was right, that I won't die until you do. I feel old, but I think I should feel older."

"Does it bother you?" Vex asked. "I don't want you to leave me ever, but if staying that long would be too much for you..."

"I don't want to leave you alone," said Trinket. "I know it'll be bad once they starting dying."

"Not all of them will," said Vex. "Some of our friends will live even longer than me. And also, I've been talking with Keyleth about Danny, and she says he might become like her, which would make him live a very long time as well. Or he might be become like me, and Charlie might live as long as him, then."

"That would be nice," said Trinket.

The spell had worn off by the time they reached the castle, with them instead sharing a comfortable silence as they headed in. They found Trinket's mate where they'd left her, still dozing away, and, much more surprisingly, Percy dozing against her.

Vex's laughter woke both of them up. Together they raised their heads, looking rather caught out. The bear only for a moment, before she lowered her head back down and returned to her nap, but Percy remained pink-faced as he hastily scrambled to his feet.

Trinket, inclined to nap himself after the day's exertions, headed to join his mate. On his way, he moved to nudge the mortified Percy, and give him a reassuring look. "He's glad," Vex told her husband, thought she didn't really need to.

#critical role #vox machina #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia week #vex'ahlia #percy de rolo #trinket the bear

10 notes · View notes

ravendruid · 9 months

Text

Game Night

This fic is part of the Critter Genfic Bingo to fulfill the Game Night and Modern AU slots, and is set in my Gamer AU. Read on AO3

Vax’ildan rarely gets to spend his own money on games these days as they are often gently covered by his subscribers, but a new game caught him unaware, so he didn’t have time to set up a donation goal or even make a poll to ascertain interest from his followers. The plan was simple: Vax was going to record his first playthrough of the game in solo mode and finally give YouTube a try. If it got a good response, then he would ask a friend or two if they wanted to play with him on stream. However, as his plans are wont to do, everything went down the drain when he mentioned buying the game on his next stream, and chat begged him to play live.

“Well, I guess that answers it,” Vax jokingly replied to everyone’s requests. “Let me talk to some friends and see if anyone is up for it. Hopefully, I’ll have a group for the next stream. How does that sound?”

Vax’s chat went wild with names and requests of other streamers he could ask to play with him, but the main name in common was very clear: Keyleth. It took him a while to cede to ask her, but he made no promises that he would be able to convince her to play the game. In the end, it was easier than he thought. All Vax had to do was tell his girlfriend that she could customize her character and show her the different options for races and classes, and she was in. The next challenge was finding two more people to play, which Keyleth also fixed by asking Percy, who in turn asked Vex’ahlia. So a party was formed, with Keyleth and Vax squad streaming so their viewers could watch both their points of vision.

“What are you guys playing,” Vax asks as he starts building his character. His is an easy choice to make, and he starts customizing a half-elf rogue to look slightly like him as his chat flies in approval and suggestions.

“I think I might try a ranger,” Vex’ahlia replies. Because she’s not streaming today, the audience will have to wait to see the reveal of her character, but on Vex’s screen is a female half-elf with a ponytail braid.

“Are you going to get a bear companion and call him Trinket, dear?” Percival teases his girlfriend. Everyone in Vax and Keyleth’s audience is familiar with Trinket, Vex’s large Newfoundland dog. At almost 70 kg, Trinket’s massive form and shaggy brown hair make him resemble a bear, which is where the joke came from one day during Vex’s first streams.

“Don’t tempt me, Percival.”

“What about you, Freddie?” Vax leans back on his chair, admiring his character.

“I’m playing a human fighter, of course.”

“Chat is asking if you’re going melee,” Vax leans in to read the questions on his screen.

“No. I’ll be ranged.”

“Keyleth, darling, what are you playing? You’re so quiet.” Vex mutters, adding piercings to her character.

“Oh? Sorry, there are so many options and hairs. It’s a lot,” Keyleth sounds and looks overwhelmed. She’s not used to playing this type of game, especially for the first time on stream.

“It’s okay, darling. Take your time.” Vex’ahlia reassures.

One of Keyleth’s biggest insecurities about streaming a game that is so out of her comfort zone was related to how her regular audience would react to the change. She usually streams cozy games that a lot of people use for body-doubling, and she loves providing everyone with a safe environment where they can go to escape from their daily lives. An adventure roleplaying game with a lot of action, dialogues, and possibly fights is not what her target audience usually looks for. However, Keyleth was pleasantly surprised—and relieved—when the poll results came in favor of her playing the game on stream. It turned out that a lot of Keyleth’s followers were avid players of tabletop roleplaying games or were generally interested in the game itself.

Although she felt better about how her audience would respond to the new game, Keyleth was still worried about stepping out of the bubble that shielded her from trolls. With a much more popular game being streamed—adding the fact that she is a woman with her camera on—Keyleth still couldn’t shake the fear that something bad could happen during the streams, which is why she recruited her best moderators, Pike and Grog, who were more than happy to stay on the sidelines and keep everyone on track.

“Okay, I think I’m done. Sorry, it took me so long,” Keyleth finally announces an hour after the stream starts. On her screen is a female half-elf druid with space buns and braids almost as red as Keyleth’s hair. She quickly reads the chat and smiles at everyone’s compliments about her character, most saying how fun her hair looks.

“No problem, love. Is everyone ready?” Vax asks. Everyone agrees, so they quickly name their characters after themselves before they move on to the next screen.

“We have to make another one?” Keyleth shouts, raising her hands to her head. On everyone’s screen is another character whose race and appearance can also be customized.

“What the fuck is a guardian,” Vex’ahlia asks, going over the different races available.

“I think it’s someone who will protect you and keep you alive,” Vax explains, quickly building a generic male elf. “You don’t have to fully customize them if you don’t want to. Just pick a race and whatever you want them to look like, I guess.”

“Yeah, right…” Keyleth looks distraught at her screen. “You know what… Chat, pick a race,” Keyleth asks. Her chat window quickly fills up with people firing races: there are a few elves, some asking for a dwarf, and a couple of people asking for a Githyanki, but the majority of the requests seem to be Drow, which is the preset anyway. It doesn’t take everyone a long time to finish building their guardians, and finally, the game begins.

A lot of fun is had for the next few hours: Vax steals everything he can get his hands on (and flirts with the vampire NPC), a wizard is saved from a portal, and the group goes through their first dungeon, the overgrown ruins of an old temple where they find a sarcophagus in a dank crypt.

“Guys, I found a sarcophagus. Do you think it has a treasure inside?” Vex’ahlia asks.

“We should investigate,” Percy crosses the threshold and waits for Vex to join him before he continues.

For some reason, neither of them notices the notification in the corner that says they failed several perception checks, so once Vex’s character is by Percy’s side, he opens the lid to the tomb, making several explosions go off and fire erupt in the chamber.

“Vex’ahlia!” Percy screams in real life, jumping out of his chair so fast it tumbles back and hits the wooden floor with a loud thud.

“I’m alright, darling,” Vex reassures him from the room next door, cackling at her boyfriend’s reaction. Her and Percy’s portraits on the left side of the screen are gray with a skull symbol next to them, indicating both characters are dead.

“What the fuck happened? I was gone for thirty seconds,” Vax shouts, sitting on his chair. He had just gone to the kitchen really quickly to grab some water for himself and Keyleth when he heard Keyleth’s screams.

“When was the last time you saved, brother?” Vex manages to ask, still laughing.

“Right before we walked into this room.” Vax shakes his head, unamused. “Are you okay, Freddie?”

“Ye–yeah, I think so. That was—” Percy draws a long breath and releases it slowly, and when he speaks again, his heart has slowed, and his voice is back to normal, “—unexpected.”

Once Vax reloads the game, he goes through the room ahead of everyone to make sure he disarms every trap before they loot the sarcophagus. “Let this be a lesson about greed, everyone,” He jokes once the valuables are successfully stashed in his inventory.

Because one tragedy doesn’t come by itself, not long after, the party is suddenly ambushed by undead skeletons, making Keyleth scream in panic as her character gets knocked unconscious by one before she gets a turn to do anything.

“I don’t think we’re strong enough to defeat these guys,” She cries.

“Yeah, we are, look.” Vax’s character appears next to Keyleth’s and stabs the skeleton that attacked her twice, leaving it with two HP. “I’ll always be here to save you, Kiki.” Vax’ildan being cheesy with his girlfriend on stream is not news, but it still manages to send both their chats over the edge. This will surely make the next fanmade supercut.

“Alright, lovebirds. Shall we kill these assholes, then?” Vex teases them.

The battle doesn’t draw long once Keyleth’s character is back up—still at one HP, but up nonetheless—and this time, when they find another sarcophagus, the group allows Vax to spearhead the party.

“Well, that was fun, right, everyone?” Vax asks a few minutes later, once they get a new NPC ally and discover an arcane book that they put away to ask their wizard friend to check later.

“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting it to be so fun,” Keyleth admits, leaning back in her chair and pulling her hoodie up. She can feel her battery draining fast. They have been streaming for a few hours longer than what she usually streams for, and her body is already reacting to it.

“Even when I died,” Vex’ahlia jokes, petting Trinket’s head on her lap. She’s glad she’s not on camera today. Her hair is a mess and she’s wearing a stained t-shirt she stole from Percy’s drawer.

“I did not like that part at all,” Percy chimes in, combing a hand through his shock-white hair and making it messier than it was.

“Just be glad I saved right before you two dingus went and set all the traps off,” Vax rolls his eyes at his sister and her boyfriend. His gaze darts over his screen to Keyleth’s stream, and he sees her bury herself in her hoodie and pull her knees up to her chest. For others, it might look like she’s just cold and getting comfortable, but Vax knows she’s overwhelmed and overstimulated, and she needs to relax, so he seamlessly brings the stream to an end with the promise of another one very soon.

More adventures await this group of chucklefucks, many mistakes and perception check failures that lead to not-so-good results, a lot of flirting with NPCs—Vax finds himself torn between the Vampire and the Wizard—and even a few not-safe-for-work unexpected scenes that make Keyleth slide down her chair and hide under her desk. At the end of the day, there is no denying that game night in general, and the new game in particular, is a huge success overall, and that everyone has plenty of fun playing and watching it.

#critical role #cr fic #critter genfic bingo #vox machina #perc'ahlia #vaxleth #modern au #gamer au #I'm so glad to finally post this. It has been tormenting me for over a week.#This is the fic I wrote and then decided to start again from scratch.

27 notes · View notes