#i mean no one calls him fjord stone

[skolworthy]

Time Knows No Bounds (A series)

Hello, this is the first part of my brand new series Time Knows No Bounds. I am not entirely sure, how long this series may end up being, but I will say that I am bound and determined to be writing it for the long haul.

There are simply not enough Ragnar fanfics out there, and I know that I cannot be the only one that is completely enamored by him. I have never written for Ragnar Lothbrok, so I hope that I am able to portray him well enough for everyone's liking. So please, sit back, grab an ale (or whatever tickles your taste buds) and enjoy.

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Warnings: None in this first segment

Info: When the font is like this, it means Ragnar is speaking in his native tongue. When he is speaking English it will just be italicized. The reader's text is just normal and anyone other than Ragnar or the reader will be in bold.

Spoilers: None, because this is completely my creation (apart from the character/legend of Ragnar Lothbrok and other historical names) it has nothing to really do with the tv series.

Plot: Ragnar, in this series, is unattached to anyone romantically. No Lagertha or Aslaug or any other baby momma's out there. No children. He has met and learned with Athelstan, because that contributes to his ability to speak with the reader. Other than that, he's just a simple gorgeous viking that lives on his farm in Kattegat, dreaming of adventure.

Summary: Of all of the places that you had expected to move to, Denmark was near the bottom of that list. Yet here you were, eight years later. It was your love of Norse history and mythology that brought you to the area in the first place, completing your education of those subjects in Copenhagen. You then took a full time job as assistant curator for one of the smaller and less well known museums just outside the capital. Many had asked why you simply did not take a job in the capital in one of their famous museums, but the fact that they seemed to be in it more for the profit than actual knowledge and history, deterred you. However, when the main museum contacted your boss about a potential gold mine of a dig sight, you jumped at the chance to aid in this archaeological adventure. Never in your wildest dreams, did you think that you would unearth something this spectacular.

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At first glimpse, Hvide Klint offered little hope of bringing about the excavation discovery of a lifetime, but something told you that this was it. This place...there was something about it that spoke to you and sent chills running up and down your spine and goosebumps to rise upon your flesh. While all your team had managed to find on the first day was a few broken pieces of pottery and the random spear head, you knew that this was just the beginning. There was something greater out there and you were going to find it. Your coworkers had left for the day, they were done searching for what they deemed was not there, but you opted to stay behind and continue to look. There was a train station that was not too far from here that you could easily take back home, albeit there would be many stops along the way, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that you had this place all to yourself, which is how you liked it. Being one with the site, finding things that others may have missed and just...enjoying the feeling that you were in a place of such historical importance. You watched as they left and then turned back around and began to walk down the shoreline, your boots sinking down into the wet sand a bit as you walked, until you finally came to an area that had seemed to almost call to you from the moment you arrived. There was a stone pillar that jutted out of the ground, obviously it had been placed there some time ago, it was worn from the weather and from the fjord. The others had shrugged it off as just an old mile marker, not wanting to stay in the cooler autumn weather a moment longer. Your eyes scanned over the ancient looking stone, taking in every crack and discoloration and then your eyes moved to the base where you noticed something sticking partially up out of the sand. Leaning down, your fingers brushed the sand away from it, revealing that it was a part of a blade, but from what, you were not sure yet. Gently you picked it up and then you gasped when the rest of it came up from under the sand, seeing that it had been the blade of an ax. Not just any ax either, but you could tell from the carvings along the handle and a bit on the blade, that it was a viking ax. Yet, it looked as if it had not aged a day? Clearly this must have been something someone had made recently, for there was no way that it would have been in this condition if it were an artifact from the viking era.

The sound of thunder brought your attention upward toward the sky, where once it had been a clear bright blue sky overhead, now there were dark clouds swirling above you. Literally, above you. It seemed as if those clouds were swirling around the pillar itself and for a moment you thought you could hear a faint voice speaking over the sudden wind that was also swirling around you. You stood up, still holding onto the ax in your hand and then you gasped when the wind suddenly propelled you forward some, causing you to stretch out your free hand and place it against the pillar in an effort to catch yourself. A moment later, a crack of lightning filled the air and you looked up in time to see it strike against the top of the pillar. You shrieked as suddenly you were knocked backward a few feet, losing your balance and falling upon your rear end as that bolt of lightning disappeared, along with the freak storm entirely. The sun was shining, the clouds were gone and there was nothing but the sound of calm waves lapping against the shore as you leaned up with your hands behind you, one of them still clutching the ax handle. What had just happened? You were about to stand up when you noticed something stir that was on the ground on the opposite side of the pillar from where you were, seeing after a moment of thought, that it was a man. He too was on his rump in the sand, looking at the pillar in bewilderment before he looked around the area and then his eyes finally landed upon you. Even from the distance between the two of you, you could tell that his eyes were the brightest shade of blue that you had ever seen, and as cliché as it sounded: it were almost as if they could look into your soul. He stared at you silently for a moment, before he pushed himself up to his knees and then finally to his feet, his eyes scanning the area curiously, though flicking back to you now and then as well.

You leaned up a bit as you watched him curiously, wondering where he had come from so quickly, and without you noticing him approaching. Had he seen the random storm brewing around, seen you standing there and he had hurried over to try and move you away? Why else would he be there, when he had not been there before? The man moved closer to the pillar, reaching out with his hand to touch it only to yank it back quickly, sucking in a breath between his teeth as if he had been burned. He stared at his hand and then at the pillar curiously and then his eyes slowly moved over to you where he then tilted his head a bit to the side. His gaze drank you in, moving from your feet all of the way up your body until his eyes met yours once again and you gave a slight shudder from the chills this had sent through you. When his eyes caught sight of the ax in your hand his eyebrows furrowed together and he took a step forward, pointing at you. “Where did you get that? That is mine.” he said as he took a few more steps forward, his eyes now moving to the ax in your hand. The language that he was speaking was something familiar to you, and yet you also could not place it. At first you could have sworn that it sounded like Old Norse, but it had been awhile since you studied that language. Suddenly he thrust his hand forward, his palm up as he gestured to the ax in your hand. “Give it to me.” You tossed the ax away from you gently, sending it to the sand next to his feet, your eyes on his without wavering as he then knelt down and picked it up, brushing the sand off and inspecting it before he placed it on his hip in a loop on his belt…wait...what was he wearing? Your eyes scanned over him slowly, taking in the boots and the leather pants, the simple belt that hung loose around his hips, along with another wider belt that was around his waist that had a weaved pattern around it and then the long dark brown tunic that fit him well. Your eyes then moved up to his beard, short, yet still unkempt and then the smooth skin of his scalp until it came to the top where long braids were pulled back and cascaded down behind his head, coming to a stop between his shoulder blades. When he turned his head, you noticed tattoos that ran behind his ear and down the back of his skull. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that this guy had walked out of a Viking Renaissance fair.

He must have noticed that you were looking at him so intently, for a slight smirk appeared on his lips as he watched you, and then, he unashamedly did the same to you. His eyes starting at your feet, though as they slowly took in your clothing, he gradually moved closer, his head tilting this way and that, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrows knitting together as he did. Instinctively you began to scoot back as you were seated upon the sand, each step he took, you would move back until suddenly he moved quickly and knelt down to where he was hovering over you slightly. You took in a sharp breath, your eyes widening at this sudden closeness as you watched his eyes roam over your body before they came to your face, moving from your chin to your lips, then the freckles that dotted your cheeks and finally to your eyes where he gazed at you intently, yet there was a curiousness in that gaze. The sound of an airplane caught his attention and his eyes glanced around, his head tilting to try and pinpoint which direction the noise was coming from and it wasn’t until he glanced upward for a moment that he paused and stared at the plane as it went by over your heads. He tilted his head back more, slowly bringing himself up to a standing position as he watched it, his face contorted in utter confusion. When the plane had disappeared from sight, the sound still present, he began to very slowly turn and look around the area, the curiosity falling from it and replacing with disbelief, maybe even fear? He stopped when he saw the building that was farther down the shore, then he noted the skyline of buildings past that along the treeline and finally he looked down at you. ”Where am I?” he said softly at first, but you were too preoccupied with trying to figure out what was happening to hear him. “Where am I?” he said a bit louder, taking a step toward you as you sat upon the ground looking up at him. That simple phrase you were able to decipher and you swallowed hard before opening your mouth, which you found had gone dry. “H-Hvide Klint. F-Frederiksværk.” you managed to stutter out.

He narrowed his eyes at you, tilting his head, clearly not understanding what you had just said. Then he put his hands on the top of his head and gripped his hair with his fingers and let out an aggravated grunt before he walked over to the pillar, going up to it and smacking it with his hand suddenly. “This is not Kattegat.” he said before smacking it again with his palm and then he circled it, looking the pillar up and down before he looked at you and pointed at the pillar. “How is this here, but my home is not?” You stared at him a moment and then you finally began to get up to your feet, brushing the sand from your palms as you watched him, your body poised to run should he come at you once again like he had before. “I’m sorry, I’m having a hard time understanding you.” The man looked at you, his eyes narrowing a bit before he lifted his chin a little, his eyes flicking up and down your body once again, which you couldn’t tell if it were in an insulting manner or if it were to take in your figure. “You are Saxon?” this time...he spoke in decent English. You stared at him silently for a moment before you brought your hands up and hugged them around your torso. He pointed at you. “English?” “In a sense.” was all that you were able to say. Being from the Midwest in America, honestly would probably go over this man’s head. Either he was deranged, or there was something else at work here. Something that was beginning to make your skin prickle with intrigue. “What is your name?” you said calmly and slowly, so that he may understand better. He stared at you silently before he took a few steps toward you, bringing himself to be within a few inches from you, which you noted now (considering earlier) that he had no regard for personal space. Either an intimidation tactic or just flat out cockiness. “Ragnar Lothbrok.” Upon hearing that name, you were hit with the knowledge you had gained over the years of living in Denmark, the legend of Ragnar Lothbrok being one of your favorite things to study and delve further into. You had spent quite a bit of time in school here, devoting your studies to that of the vikings, especially when it came to the tales of the Lothbrok clan.

Your eyes quickly scanned the surrounding area, almost half expecting a hidden camera crew to be hiding somewhere, having just helped some of your colleagues and friends pull quite the prank on you. There was no one around, not unless you counted the fishing boat that was off in the distance, though you doubted they would be getting very good camera shots from there if this was indeed a prank. Yet, if this was not some sort of ruse, then what was happening right now? This man had seemingly (to you anyway) appeared out of nowhere, the moment you had been knocked back by the force of that lightning hitting the pillar, when he had not been anywhere within sight, prior to that. Your feet moved you around him, bringing you to the pillar in question and you reached up, tentatively tracing your fingers over some runes that you had not noticed before. They were etched deep, but they were also worn from the weather and from what you could make of the symbols, it had something to do with ‘time’. Lost in time? Far through time? Ugh, it was too worn for you to tell at this moment. You quickly reached down into the pocket of your cardigan and pulled out your notebook, ripping a piece of paper from it and then brought out your pencil. Holding the paper against the pillar, you used the lead of the pencil to scratch against the underlying etching of the runes, bringing to light what you were unable to see. Staring down at the symbols you had managed to capture with the lead, you wracked your brain for what it might say when you jumped suddenly at the fact that this ‘Ragnar’ was beside you, and close, once again. He had come up somewhat behind you, his face leaning over your shoulder some to see what you were holding and his breath you could feel against your cheekbone slightly as he spoke. “Time knows no bounds.” he said softly. Clearly, he was able to read this. And you jumped for joy inwardly that you at least were correct in knowing it had said something about ‘time’. “My great grandfather carved this after losing his first wife, knowing that one day they would be reunited in Valhalla.” You lifted your gaze from the paper in your hand and looked at the worn carvings upon the pillar for a moment, before you turned your head to the side and your eyes widened, having forgotten how close he was standing. The smell of fresh pine and rich soil wafted up to your nose. “I never received your name.” He said in a soft tone, his eyes daring to move across your facial features, resting on your lips a moment before going back to your eyes. You took a step back quickly, trying to create some space between you and for the love...he moved with you as if anticipating you would do this, keeping that space to its same bare minimum. The cockiness and unashamed way that he kept looking at you, was enough to bring color to your cheeks as you looked at him. “Y/N.”

“Y/N...” he repeated your name and you would be lying to yourself if you said that it didn’t give you chills when hearing it fall from his lips. He studied your face once again and then he gave a small smirk, showing off his white teeth and then he took a step back from you, bringing his hands together in front of him where he clasped them together as he continued to look down at you. “I say again, y/n...where am I?” he said, that smirk upon his lips still. He gave a soft sigh as his eyes moved around the area again. “Or perhaps...I should say 'when'?” This brought your stomach to tighten a little. He was registering the fact that this might not be his home, and not just that, his time period. If this were the case...if he was really Ragnar Lothbrok, then something insane, mysterious and magical had brought him through time, to this moment and place. Your eyes moved to the paper in your hand once more. The words ‘time knows no bounds’ echoing around inside your head before lifting to look up at him. “Denmark. It is the year, 2022.” you said quietly, watching his reaction. Either he had a great poker face, or this did not surprise him as much as it should have, for he gave no indication of emotion as he looked at you once you had admitted the year. He looked down at his hands that were clasped and he gave a slight nod, before keeping his face turned downward, but lifting those blue eyes of his to meet yours again. “Then my home is long gone.” he said, giving a sigh through his nose. He then moved over to the pillar and placed his hand upon it, as if he were expecting it to transport him once again, home. Like the silly little optimistic girl you were, you had half wondered if it would work, but there he continued to stand for many a moment before he let his hand fall down to his side limply. You hesitated and then moved closer to the pillar, getting close to it with your face so that you could study it better, in case anything might have been missed. You then came around to the side that he had been close to when he ‘arrived’ and you noted there was more runes there only different from what had been on your side. “What does this say?” you asked, bringing your finger to point just under the first symbol. Ragnar took a step closer and squinted, lifting his hand up to run his fingers along the engraving, your body tingling when his fingers lightly brushed over yours a moment. “A year and a day shall send you back on your way.” he said as he removed his hand from the pillar and rested it upon the blade of the ax that was holstered at his hip.

“A year and a day?” you said, repeating it under your breath. “Oh fuck, does that mean whatever happened...wont happen again for another year and a day?” Ragnar’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead a bit when you cursed, but there was a glimmer in his eye and the corner of his mouth went up slightly as he looked at you. He then reached up and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as he looked at the runes on the pillar. “My great grandfather enjoyed his riddles...and his rhymes. Yet, it was exactly a year and a day before he too, entered Valhalla." You jumped when suddenly your phone began to ring and you nearly dropped the paper in your hands as you fumbled in your other pocket to try and get to it. Ragnar was highly confused by the sudden sound, but he watched with interest when you pulled out your phone and then hit the answer button, bringing it up to your ear. It was one of your colleagues, Klaus. "Hey, just wanted to let you know that we made it back. You still at the site, or did you wise up to the fact there's nothing there and leave?" You cleared your throat as Ragnar came closer to you, his head tilted as he looked at the phone next to you head as you then began to talk into it. "Oh you know me, stubborn as a mule. So naturally, I am still looking around." "Oh for Christ's sake, y/n." You could hear him sigh and your eyes widened when Ragnar reached for your hand and brought the phone forward, pressing his ear against it curiously, his eyebrows shooting up when you heard Klaus's voice ask if you had found anything. You quickly took Ragnar's wrist and brought the phone back to your ear. "No, nothing. I'll be heading back soon."

You still had hold of his wrist as you continued to talk to Klaus, though when you suddenly felt his fingertip gently touch the side of your face, you raised an eyebrow at him. Ragnar just smirked as he watched you and did it again, which caused you to shrink back some, though trying to keep your ear against the phone that he was still holding onto. Clearly this man had no qualms when it came to making someone feel awkward, unless this was his way of flirting? Regardless, your face was flushing and you quickly pried the phone from his hand, using your free one to gently swat his fingers away as you took a step back, making him smirk more. Here he was, in a different time period and yet he was getting such enjoyment of making you feel uncomfortable. "Just be careful, there are weirdos out there." Klaus said, which made your gaze flick to Ragnar's. "You know I can handle myself pretty well." Ragnar's eyebrow raised. "I'll send you a text when I'm home." At that, he hung up and you lowered the phone and before you could slip it back into your pocket, Ragnar's hand caught your wrist and he gazed down at the device in your hand. "How does it talk? Magic?" You gave a snort and shook your head as he continued to look at the phone in your hand. Gently you pulled your arm back toward you and unlocked it, bringing about your home screen which showed a picture of you and your friends on your birthday, smiling and laughing. He looked at it intently, looking from your face in the picture, to your actual face in front of him. You could tell that he was highly confused. "It's called a 'phone'. You can use it to talk to people, keep in touch with loved ones that are far away. Among a lot of other things." You then switched on the camera and held it up, looking at him through the screen and put a smile on your face. "Say cheese." He stared at you. "Why?" "It means to smile." He hesitated and then gave that smirk of his and you snapped a picture, turning the phone around to face him after.

Ragnar stared at it, his eyebrows knitted together as he looked at the picture of himself, taking your wrist and bringing the phone closer to his face, his eyes looking at it curiously. You then turned to where your back was facing him and you held the phone up in front of you, flipping the camera around to where you could see both of you on the screen, taking a short video of you waving and him just standing there behind you, mesmerized. You took in a long breath and then turned to face him, pursing your lips in thought before your eyes then moved to the pillar that was behind him. "I need to do more research on this. You said your great grandfather placed this pillar here? What was his name?" He told you and you, to the best of your ability, jotted it down on the piece of paper you had used to copy the runes on. "Perhaps we can get you home faster than a year and a day, if we figure out more about this thing and what happened and why it happened." He looked at you as you stared at the pillar with curiosity and he gave a small smile. "It is the will of Odin that I am here." You gave a small chuckle. "Well gee thanks, Odin, now I have to figure out what to do with you." you said as you looked at him. To be honest, why should you even get involved in this? What if it were all some sort of joke? Though on the inside, you knew that it wasn't. This was something real, and it was something fascinating and you wanted desperately to get to the bottom of it. You lifted your phone up once again and sent for a taxi before looking back at Ragnar. "It will probably be best for you to come back home with me, until I can get more answers." He gave that damn smirk of his as he looked at you and then nodded his head. "Is it a far walk?" You grinned and nodded your head. "Yes, quite far. But we will not be walking." He followed after you as you walked back up the hill to where you and your coworkers had parked earlier and then kept going until you came upon the road. Your phone dinged and you saw a message from the nearest taxi driver, stating that they were driving down the road and wanted to know where to look for you. You messaged them back and within a few moments, a car came down the road toward you, pulling off onto the side of the road for you to get in. Ragnar backed up a bit, putting his hand upon the ax at his hip, eyeing the large black thing that had just stopped before you and you gave a smirk. "It's okay. This will be taking us to the train station." He just stared between you and the car and you held your hand out to him. "Do you trust me?"

Ragnar looked at you, his hand still on the ax and then noticed that there was a person inside the big black thing and his eyebrow raised a bit, before he looked back at you. "I do not trust easily." "Yeah, well...I can just leave you here then?" you said as you lowered your hand and opened the back door to the car and moved to slide in. "Wait." He said, taking a step forward. "At least explain what this is." he said, gesturing to the car with his free hand. "It's called a car. Think of it like a carriage or cart, but without the horses. It will take us where we need to go." He looked at it once again, his eye landing on the very confused and also irritated that this was taking so long, person inside. "Car." he said under his breath, before he gave a nod and then removed his hand from the ax and he moved to where you were, watching as you slid in and across the seat and then gestured to the seat beside you for him to take. He hesitated and then finally sat down, his eyes peering about the inside of the car before glancing at you. "Where to?" the driver said. "Train station, please." you said as you then leaned over to Ragnar and took the seat belt and wrapped it around him, having to move the ax to buckle it. He stared at you curiously and you gave a smile. "Keeps you safe." you said before giving the belt across his chest a pat and then you did the same for yourself, giggling when as the car then moved forward, Ragnar's hands moved to the seat beside his legs and gripped hard, his eyes widening. "Just wait until you are on the train. It goes even faster." you said, smiling at him when his eyebrows rose a bit as he looked at you. Once the car had been moving for some time, you saw that his body finally relaxed and you watched as he gazed out of the window as an entirely different world than the one he knew, passed by.

*Gif does not belong to me, credit goes to its lovely creator: vikings-ragnar

#ragnar lothbrok #vikings #travis fimmel #ragnar lothbrok x reader #ragnar x reader #ragnar imagine #ragnar lothbrok fanfiction #ragnar fanfic #vikings fanfiction

[theclockistickingwrite]

The Mighty Nein created themselves in so many ways, more sideways and careful than the usual D&D party structure, more selective than the usual scrappy nobody heroes, and I can’t stop thinking about it.

(I know it’s been over a year. I know.)

Because some it was intentional and some of it was pure coincidence, some of it was a minor backstory detail that suddenly made everything fit into place, and some of it was large enough to hurt, and so terribly clever.

Nott the Brave being an anagram for Veth Brenatto.

Fjord Stone, with a surname he rejected because it felt it didn’t fit, having SO MUCH meaning tied to the Wildmother in a way that no one, not even Travis could have ever predicted.

Jester naming herself because she wanted to make people happy.

Beau, given the name of the son her father always wanted.

And Caleb Widogast, a name that was random and stuck because Bren decided to stay with the goblin girl he met in prison. And Bren, said in so many ways throughout the story: as a weapon by Trent, as a reminder. It’s just a name. Caleb doesn’t seem to mind being called it, but the way it’s said matters so much. Astrid calls him Bren like she’s calling him home.

Orphanmaker. The title Yasha wore when she wasn’t herself, and never a name her friends called her.

(Molly/Lucien is their own post, honestly)

And then their name. The Mighty Nein. The Mighty No. A joke, at first.

(“But there are only seven of you” “we lost two in the sewers.”)

They liked it because it was ironic, because it was a good cover. And then they did finally, actually, become Nine later. Who could have thought?

I’m just…forever so in awe of how carefully stitched together this family was, how they were so careful with what they called themselves, how barely anyone will remember the name The Mighty Nein.

They were such a goddamn good story.

I miss them.

#the mighty nein #I’m feeling a lot of things don’t mind me #this isn’t coherent #I’ve been listening to old M9 episodes to fall asleep and just…drowning in feelings #critical role #campaign 2

[waltwhitmansbeard]

sneakily drops a box of muffins and maple ginger cookie in your ask box

Good morning :D

Whenever you have the chance, may I ask Spring Prompts - 31. helping each other out, and to make it different, anyone from C2?

Thank you <3

31. helping each other out NOM NOM. idk if you'd exactly call this "helping each other out" but eh whatever.

Honestly, Caduceus is so lucky to have a friend like Jester. After the Nein Heroez limped into Nicodranas for some repairs (a hurricane followed by an encounter with a pod of merrows made for quite the one-two punch for the poor ship), Jester had decided she didn't want to wait around for the job to be done and instead spent several days pestering Caleb via Sending to teleport her and Fjord to the Blooming Grove for a visit with their favorite firbolg family. Three nights of near-constant telepathic songs about cupcakes later, and here they are, Jester and Fjord, ready to bring joy and baked goods to the Clay family.

The first thing Jester notices, of course, is how plain their little house is. Most of the damage that had been done during the confrontation with Trent Ikithon has been fixed, but no artistry was put into it. It's just plain stone and wood—and that can't do.

"Caduceus?" Jester asks in her most sweetest voice as she forces pastries from Nicodranas into Clarabelle's hands. "Do you know what I was thinking?"

"Rarely if ever," comes the dry reply. Caduceus is bent low over the stovetop, boiling water for tea.

"I was thinking that maybe it would be nice to have some color."

"But you're already so colorful, Jester," Clarabelle remarks. She pops the croissant into her mouth, and Jester grins as her eyes narrow in happiness.

"Not for me! For you! For the Blooming Grove!" She bounces over to Caduceus. "Listen. I brought all my paints with me. Fjord said I didn't have to but what does he know?" She glances out the window to see Fjord chatting with Colton about something boring, probably. "I'm thinking...a big mural, with lots of flowers and butterflies and oh! Maybe some bees? Something really pretty for all your dead people to look at!"

Caduceus sighs, and she's not sure if it's the usual sigh ("I don't know, Jester...") or her favorite sigh (the sigh of giving in, perfected by Fjord). "Well, y'know, Jester, the Blooming Grove, it's kind of...a sacred place..."

"And what is more sacred than art?" She flaps a hand in Clarabelle's direction. "Clara, tell him I'm right."

Her eyes go wide. "I...uh...I mean..."

"Okay okay okay, not a mural then. Maybe...I paint the front door? Something really pretty and welcoming."

He sighs again, and there it is! Her favorite sigh. "Just...make sure it's okay with my mom first?"

"Of course, of course!" She throws her arms around him, happy to note he's not a rail-thin as he once was, but still nearly knocks him off of his feet. "You won't regret it, I promise!"

It takes little time to convince Constance to let her paint the door. She mostly just gives Jester that indulgent smile she's come to rely upon and sends her on her way. So Jester stands before the door, her paints spread around on the little front porch, her tongue between her teeth as she surveys her canvas. The door needs to be bright, it needs to be inviting, and it needs to tell all of the spirits here in the Blooming Grove that they picked the right place to spend the rest of eternity. It also needs to pay homage to the Traveler, because even though Caduceus serves the Wildmother, it cannot hurt to have an extra set of eyes watching over this place.

And so she gets to work. It takes her all afternoon, stretching and stooping and swirling her paints around, transforming what was once a plain wooden door into an explosion of color and life. Clarabelle comes out to watch, still munching on some pastries, and at one point Fjord moseys over to remind Jester that this isn't their house, which, duh, that's why it was so dull before! The sun is making its way down into the tops of the surrounding Savalirwood by the time she's finished. She steps back to admire her handiwork, paint-stained hands proudly on her hips, before covering the doorway with the tarp she'd been using as a dropcloth. "Oh Clays! C'mere!"

One by one, the Clays and Fjord gather, the latter clearly nervous about whatever she was going to reveal. Jester claps her hands together. "My beloved Clay family, I would like to present to you a Jester Lavorre original: your front door!"

She whips the dropcloth away to reveal her grand creation. The door is no longer a door, but rather a slice of the Blooming Grove itself. From the bottom, all manner of wildflowers of yellow and blue and red and pink lick up from whispers of green grass, overgrown and buzzing with the tiniest crawling things. A few crooked headstones just peek over the tops of the petals, and between them, framed by the towering trunks of the Savalirwood, is a family in silhouette, five figures with floppy ears holding hands, draping arms around each other's shoulders. Jester employed some of her magical paints to create small butterflies that really flit around their heads, and a few birds dancing between the branches of the trees over head. The sun is setting between them, just as it is now, in real life, and it casts a warm glow over the entire scene.

Jester watches the Clays intently, anxious for their reaction. For a long minute, they just stare in silence. Then Caduceus slowly walks up and presses a kiss to the top of her head. "It's wonderful, Jester. A real masterpiece."

She beams. "Thank you, Caduceus!" She tackles him into another hug, and he laughs, patting her back. "And look!" She releases him and rushes to the door, pointing down to the flowers in one corner. "See?"

Caduceus peers down, and a bemused smile appears on his face when he spots it: the petals of one flower perfectly overlay with those of another to form the shape of a dick.

"The Traveler is with you!" Jester whispers.

"You're with me, Jester," he drawls. "That's what really matters."

The rest of the Clays come to congratulate and thank her for her artistic contribution to their home, and yeah, Jester thinks as Constance hugs her tight, Caduceus is so lucky to have such an amazing friend like her.

#ask #ravendruid #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #mighty nein #mighty nein fic #jester lavorre #caduceus clay #my fic

[written-by-ariddletobesolved]

One word prompt: bethrotal

Hello there, thank you for the prompt! I was so inspired and I ended up writing a long one. Enjoy!

One Word Prompt 12 - Betrothal

Note: Sets in an alternative canon verse. What if Elsa never accidentally struck Anna with her powers and grew to master her powers? And what if Agnarr and Iduna somewhat arranged a betrothal between Hans and Elsa when they were little? Anyway, on with the story! ^^

—

Elsa has been staring at the small jewellery on her finger for the past hour. Under the sunlight, she watches as the stone glistens and smiles when it reflects a rainbow of colours onto the wall when she tilts it.  But is it really worth spending the rest of your life with a person you barely know just to fulfil your duty as a Queen?

Shaking her head, the Princess then lets out a sigh. Gazing ahead at the open sea, she begins to think of the big changes that are about to happen in her life. She is counting days to her wedding, and her coronation as the Queen of Arendelle that follows shortly after, when she is finally stepping into the role she has been preparing herself for all of her life. Deep down, she really misses her parents, even though they were the reason why this betrothal took place in the beginning. But Elsa knows that at that time, it was probably the best thing that they wanted for her.

But did they really not trust her enough to rule on her own? Elsa would be lying if she didn’t admit that she often finds herself wondering about it.

‘No!’ 

She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm her mind. Her fingertips are tingling, a sign that her powers may burst out any time soon if she can’t tame it. Although she has finally mastered her gift, thanks to the help of her little sister, Anna, unstable emotions may trigger an unwanted outburst, and she can’t afford looking like a crazy person—not when her groom is around.

‘Your Majesty, are you okay?’

‘Prince Hans!’ Elsa almost gasps, startled at his unannounced presence, but she quickly composes herself and manages to fake a smile. ‘I’m alright. I was actually thinking to myself about the wedding preparation, yes, the wedding preparation. I wonder if everything is going as planned. Well, we have to make sure about it, don’t we?’

Hans politely nods and smiles. ‘Yes we do, Princess Elsa.’ Offering her his arm to take, he then says, ‘Allow me to escort you, Your Majesty.’

Elsa takes his arm, not wiping the smile off her face. She feels like there’s something that Prince Hans is trying to hide behind that polite nod and charming smile, but whatever it is, she can’t really lay her fingers on. There are so many things that she wants to know about him—things that she is curious about. What was life in the Southern Isles like for him? How does it feel like to be the youngest of thirteen children? What does this betrothal mean to him? And there’s one thing that she really wants to know the answer to: why does he often longingly stare at the fjord, at the open sea? This thought is often followed by another question she doesn’t want to ponder: does he already have someone back home?

Thinking about the possibility, for some reason, does make her feel a little upset. It’s true that she doesn’t wish to be tied forever with someone she barely knows and loves, and if he does have someone, perhaps they can try to break it off. But why does it feel like it’s not the right thing to do? This way of thinking would often leave her frustrated and she would end up talking to Anna to seek validation, yet the response that she gets has always been the same: Well, if you really wish to know, ask him, then, Elsa!

‘Prince Hans,’ she pauses to take a breath, and they both stop in the middle of a corridor. Looking up, she can see a look of confusion on his face. ‘I, I suppose we should get to know each other better. Maybe we can have a stroll in the garden and visit the ballroom later?’

Hans seems to think for a while, before replying, ‘I suppose so, Princess Elsa.’

‘Please, just call me Elsa. We’re getting married in a week, and to be honest, I prefer if my groom and I are more familiar with each other.’

‘Of course, Elsa.’ The prince smiles, something she has grown accustomed to by now, but still she needs to dive deep under that mask and sees for herself what kind of person he really is. ‘Then you may call me Hans.’

‘Hans,’ she repeats. Hans.

On the way to the garden, Hans doesn’t say anything. He seems to be thinking deeply—what about, she doesn’t know. But maybe she should ask.

‘A penny for your thought?’ Elsa finally says it out loud, when they are sitting on the bench next to where the tulips are. ‘Sorry, Hans, it’s just, you’ve been rather quiet these days. Do you miss your family back home?’ Or someone else? She decided to leave this one out.

Hans shakes his head. ‘If I may admit it, no, I don’t really miss my family. But I do miss one thing.’

‘What is it?’ Elsa probes, her big blue eyes are staring at him with a hint of curiosity. This is it, she thinks quietly.

Much to her surprise, he lets out a chuckle, darting his attention to the fountain in the middle of the spacious Royal Garden. ‘It’s silly, actually.’ Elsa waits until he continues. ‘I miss my freedom.’ When he finally turns to face her, the princess looks away shyly. 

‘There’s nothing silly about missing your freedom.’

‘You’re right,’ he nods. ‘Back in the Isles, I wasn’t really popular among my brothers. Sure I’m one of the Princes, but there are so many Princes that people won’t recognise you without your sash or any medals on your jacket. Not that I mind, even though there were times when I wished I was more popular, but I realised that it did come with more freedom. Although it gets a little lonely sometimes, I guess I’m used to it. I used to go sailing on my own. It’s always nice to feel the salty breeze and to embrace the wind. The fjord of Arendelle seems like a nice spot to sail in.’

Oh, so that’s why he often looks at the sea. Elsa flashes him a small smile when their eyes meet once again, but it only stays briefly, before she bluntly asks, ‘Do you have someone special back home?’

‘Why?’ She can hear a hint of smirk when he diverts the question back to her. ‘Are you, by chance, jealous?’

What?

‘No!’ The princess quickly states. ‘No, I was just wondering, you know. I mean, I was only assuming that you might have somebody back home.’

Elsa doesn’t expect the silence nor does she expect his following response, ‘Don’t worry, Elsa. Nobody will ever compare to you.’ When he gently takes her hand, she can feel her cheeks get warmer. ‘I cannot promise you anything, but I will try to be the best partner for you, and I will try to make you happy.’

‘Thank you, Hans.’ She can tell that he does want this as much as she does, and she feels content knowing that, at least for now. ‘But seriously, not even a friend?’

‘Oh, I do have a friend, and he is coming here with me,’ Hans casually replies, still holding her hand.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. ‘But you came on your own.’

‘Sitron.’ He chuckles. ‘His name is Sitron. He is my horse.’

Of all things, she isn’t expecting that as an answer. At first Elsa thought she might miscount her own guests, but after hearing his response, she eventually finds it amusing. 

‘You name your horse Sitron? Who does that?’

‘Well, in my defence, I was thirteen when I named him.’

Standing up, Elsa clasps her hands together. ‘Why don’t we go to the stables now? I’d like to meet him, if you don’t mind.’

‘Sure.’ Hans is quick to get on his feet and offers her his arm. ‘Shall we, Your Majesty?’

‘We shall.’ She links her arm with his, her lips curved into a smile.

 They may still have a long way to go to know about each other, but Elsa is glad that they are on the right track. Maybe something good will eventually come out of this betrothal, or so she hopes.

#helsa #elsa x hans #helsa fanfiction #iceburns #prince hans #queen elsa #frozen #one word prompt series #mary's writing #ariddletobesolved

[hiccanna-tidbits]

HICCANNA MONTH WEEK 3, DAY 2 - STUDIO GHIBLI AU PRINCESS MONONOKE

Anna, crown princess of Arendelle and one of the best swordswomen in all the land, gets called on an unusual mission one day. She receives a cry for help in the mail, a letter from King Drago detailing the horrors of recent dragon attacks on his people.

Arendelle's neighboring lands and their powerful king had been thriving and flourishing, celebrating less disease and death as they live off the spoils of a nearby mountain and grew wealthier and wealthier through trade. King Drago was planning on expansion for a number of years, sending men to scout out beautiful mountain views and expansive alpine meadows to keep sheep and goats.

Unfortunately, Drago's kingdom has always had to share their lands with some rather unwelcome and cranky neighbors: Woodland dragons.

For a long time, Drago has been able to stave off the fire-breathing fiends with squadron upon squadron of highly-trained soldiers, shooting the wings of the beats and sending them tumbling into the fjords below. The kingdom's dragon-fighting methods have worked for decades, protecting the bustling city and saving countless men, women, children, and livestock alike.

Fighting the dragons on their own terrain, however, proves to be a different story. When Drago loses men by the dozen, with the survivors all covered in terrible burns, he figures an outside soldier's perspective may be needed to come up with better tactics.

Anna, eager for the chance to put her battle strategy skills to good use, sets out for Drago's kingdom on her trusty steed Kjekk. Her own loved ones practically beg her not to go, Drago making no secret of how ruthless dragons are. They will not hesitate to incinerate anyone who gets in their way, even children. Most egregiously, the tales go that they once killed King Stoick's son Prince Hamish right in front of him, when Hamish was no more than a baby. The reason? The dragons wanted to take Stoick's land for their own, and the king staunchly refused.

Regardless, far be it from Anna to turn down people in need.

The people of Drago's kingdom are hardworking and earnest, sincerely thanking the princess for her help. They whistle as they build, paving stones and whittling buildings together. Anna grows fond of the workers, and cheers them on as they make progress. She swaps stories with them in the evening, around roasting mutton and a steaming pot of soup, and together they plan and strategize. Although the dragon attacks are harrowing and brutal, Anna's cunning on the battlefield is starting to give Drago's men a one-up.

There’s just one small problem: A feral boy in armor made from shed scales lives among the woodland dragons, entirely convinced he himself is a dragon. And he’s really cute. And Anna can’t stop thinking about him. And he hates humans and wants them all dead, especially the meddlesome princess helping his enemies to take over his forest. And he’s maybe definitely tried to stab her several times.

As the situation evolves, Anna thinks it may be time to try putting her creature diplomacy skills to use, too. They’ve only worked on ducks and reindeer so far, and dragons are a longshot...but it’s worth a try. Especially if it means “Hiccup” (as the dragon-boy calls himself) and his draconic family don’t have to get hurt for Drago’s kingdom to know peace.

Eventually, a smitten Anna and a reluctant Hiccup are forced to work together when both human and dragonkind are put in grave danger. Drago’s quest to dominate the forest grows more and more extreme, and the humans’ actions anger the Great Snaptrapper, an ancient dragon spirit that has been the guardian of the mountain for millennia. Anna and Hiccup find themselves in an urgent race against the clock to reach some sort of compromise between their peoples, and save both humans and dragons from total annihilation. And the rumors floating around that Hiccup could be the long-thought-dead Prince Hamish, given to the dragons to raise in some sort of bargain, only make matters more complicated...

***

Okay so I didn’t realize until I started brainstorming Studio Ghibli AUs just how much I have an urgent NEED to write Hiccup as a feral dragon-boy living in the forest and literally raised by giant, fire-breathing reptiles XD Like Valka but like 10x as wild and unhinged, since he’s been with the dragons since he was a literal baby :O

And, of course, Anna the warrior princess seeing this filthy gremlin dragon boy in the woods who smells like dirt and old scales and tries to kill her??? And getting the world’s biggest heart eyes immediately??? Immaculate. He’s got a dang knife hovering over her throat like “LEAVE THE FOREST NOW OR I’LL BITE YOU WITH MY VERY-DRAGON TEETH!!!” and she’s just like “Is this??? My future husband??? Beautiful boy <3 <3 <3″ She only has the most hinged of tastes, I assure you aknpzvyevz

I do love how well it works thematically, too--like Anna being a spokesperson for the people and for the human side of things, while Hiccup is a fierce defender of animals and nature. It puts them at odds in a pretty appropriate way, and makes them find a solution where BOTH people and animals are (at least somewhat) happy!!! Good shit. The kinda social commentary I strive for in my own stuff tbh!

On a sillier note I love to imagine that after Anna brings Hiccup into human society, he instinctually tries to devour raw meat constantly and she has a spray bottle ready to go like “NO!!! BAD!!! You’re not getting salmonella and E. coli on MY watch!!!”

As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request!

#hiccanna #hiccannamonth #hiccannamonth22 #hiccannamonth2022 #moodboard #aesthetic #hiccup x anna #anna x hiccup #hiccup #anna #hiccup haddock #princess anna #hiccupxanna #annaxhiccup #rotbtd #rotbtfd #princess mononoke au #httyd #frozen #crossover

[apollo41writes]

Goodnight prompt 64/∞

Fandom: Critical Role Ship: Caleb Widogast/Fjord Stone AUs/Tropes: Soulmates AU, (Failed) Kidnapping Prompt: When the syndicate tasked him with kidnapping Lord Ermendrud, Fjord had no idea that the very talented and quite handsome wizard was his soulmate all along. He also didn't realize that it was basically a suicide mission, if it wasn't for the mercy of his soulmate.

Extra details: This is obviously a canonical AU where Bren never lost his mind at the realization of what he did to his parents but decided instead to continue his studies and get rid of Trent from the inside.

He succeed so well, that for his contribution to the Empire that they gave him some kind of title (I picked Lord because I have no idea how titles work, but feel free to give him something different).

So he's basically very important both at the Acedemy and for the Empire, and he's known for have lots of enemies. (I do think somehow Beauregard still ends up working with him.)

Fjord himself, after the ship sank, ended up working for a criminal syndicate instead of ending up with the MN (maybe for the Gentlemen?). He's somewhat still of a softy that is trying to escape from Uk'otoa, which mean that he sometimes stirs a little bit of problem for the syndicate.

He doesn't realize that he's sent to a lot of suicide missions because he still ends up somehow making it work, mostly because he has friends helping him (I am thinking maybe in this one Jester, Yasha, Molly and Nott actually are with him working for the syndicate).

But the kidnapping is a solo mission, or maybe the syndicate makes sure all of his friends are busy with something else.

I think that obviously Fjord ends up in one of Bren's traps. But instead of immediately calling for the guards, Bren is curious of how exactly he managed to get so close to him (maybe he entered Bren's study while he was there working late or something). And because of this fascination they have a conversation and that's how they find out they are soulmates.

Maybe at this point Bren offers Fjord to help each other. He will pay for Fjord services so that he helps him find out who exactly payed the syndicate to get rid of him.

So, maybe Bren fakes his death and goes back to the syndicate as Caleb Widogast, Beau at his side as somewhat of his personal security team and extra investigator.

No clue how they pick up Caduceus along the way, but I do like the idea of the Nines getting back together in a very different way.

Also, I enjoy the eternal confusion of Fjord sometimes let Caleb's real name slip when he's in the safety of his own house with his friends. (Oh, and just imagine Nott being very protective of Fjord instead of Caleb in this one, because she thought he might be the one helping her turn back to Veth, but also seeing how much more powerful the mage is and being so very tempted to ask him for help to do it instead.)

#goodnight prompts #widofjord #fic prompt #daily prompt #prompt #critical role #fjord stone #caleb widogast #soulmates au #kidnapping #tw kidnapping #feel free to change whatever detail as well #feel free to use this prompt however you want

[ohfinlee]

#fjord #fjord stone #i mean no one calls him fjord stone #critical role #cr #fjord tusktooth #critical role fan art #fanart #veth brenatto #GET HIS ASS VETH!!!

[catalists]

@stardreamerl0ve and I were talking about how Essek was going to need a new name, now. many new names, probably. leaving the Dynasty means leaving his Den means leaving his right to the name Thelyss behind.

it’s lucky that the first time someone calls him Essek Thelyss again, after that, it’s the Nein. lucky that he corrects them, that he’s just Essek now. and Jester says, don’t you want another name? what are you going to call yourself?

he doesn’t need a second name if he doesn’t want it, Fjord says.

well, okay, Jester says. but you could pick another name, right? if there’s one that sounds good!

thank you, Jester, Essek says. but it’s not about how it sounds.

what is it about, friend? caleb asks.

essek thinks about talking around it. thinks that they would let him. but he is tired, and he says, you have a den name to tell people who you belong to, who you are a part of. and I am not, anymore, so maybe it is better I don’t have one.

but you’re one of us, Veth says. so you have to have one.

have mine! Jester says. you can have mine!

or mine, Veth offers. and Caduceus offers. and Yasha. and Beau, although she prefaces it with my family kind of sucks but. Caleb’s name is made up, too, just Caleb’s, but he offers it anyway with the knowledge that it once might have been meaningless but it isn’t now. even Fjord offers the name he doesn’t use, because there is a family that does who follows the same path Fjord follows, and Essek might have a use for it. Kingsley offers Tealeaf, if Essek wants it, if he would like to have brothers again.

Essek lives for a long time, under many different names. Essek uses them all. he is a Lavorre, for a while, and a Clay, and a Brenatto, and a Stone . he's a Tealeaf, well down the line when no one's going to associate him with the pirate. He's Nydoorin, several times, and Lionett too, by the time people associate the name only with Beauregard and not with her family. and Widogast. He is Widogast first, and again, and every five or six decades or so, when he wants to remember, or when he intends to do something that he thinks Caleb would especially approve of. there are a lot more spells that begin with Widogast’s, well beyond Caleb’s lifetime. Essek credits Caleb with them all.

#critical role #essek thelyss #cr #cr meta #caleb widogast #shadowgast #the mighty nein #critical role campaign 2 #cr campaign 2

[arclundarchivist]

SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 19 OF CRITICAL ROLE.

Turn, ye back from whence you Came! If of course the latest episode has escaped ye!

Sho!

Final Warning!

Episode 19 or How I’m gonna call it…

“Hey…what da Moon doin?”

So…Ruidus, Roody, Little Red…what the FUCK are you?!

It’s got an Atmosphere? It might be more similar to a gas giant in form?

It’s behind Imogen’s powers, it’s covered in storms!

What IS IT?!

Estani’s description and info dumb got me thinking about so much now like.

It causes children to be born before their actual due date??? That’s a lot more active in the world than previous information has implied!

Drassig being a “Ruidis-Born”, a curious thing but a tyrant centuries dead ain’t what I’m worried about right now. Got more recent tyrants to keep an eye on!

*Glares at Delilah and Lucien*

Then you’ve got Alyxian, but eh, we already got that story in Netherdeep. Not gonna go hunting into him.

The Raven Queen though….you mean the goddess most focused on the threads of fate and was deeply intrigued by Vax “Fate-Touched” ‘ildan? The one who recently had a Planar Refugee shatter a remnant of her former identity? She’s tied to the “Moon of Ill Omen”? Supposedly, get outta here with maybes old man!

But what is Ruidus actually, like if it plays it’s hand in the birth of “important” not cursed or ill-fated, but people that *have* to be born what is it truly.

Ryn and Estani remark on it not fitting properly into the Planar net, that it acts as if it had a Will of its own. It likely does have a Will of its own.

But then Estani mentioned it being a Way-station and that peaked a whole other level of interest in me.

Like was he referring to other Prime Materials or visitors from other planets in Matt’s verse?!

And then…then the figures emerging within the Storm. Malevolent figures, shadowy figures in a realm of red, black and screams.

My conspiracy brain is still shouting about the Somnovem, but you say there were Nine you say, and Matt spoke in intervals of 8 and 10!

Well! A creature named Ira, calling themselves the Nightmare king is galavanting around the Feywild. And the Somnovem Ira talked about being killed to be born anew…*So*

And if there are Ten, well…doesn’t Lucien make Ten?

In truth it is likely a different entity, what I don’t know yet. But I’m intrigued. I’m also curious to know what would have happened if Imogen used the Gnarlstone?

She’s changing…her markings are growing and have been. And the Stone, it helps growth, it inspires change. So what…would it do to Imogen???

Excited for the heist, Orym, Fearne and Laudna comforting Imogen was very sweet.

Orym talking about not running anymore while staring at the moons, the implication he’s acknowledging his own flight. His own ties to misfortune. His own, though much less metaphysical ties to the Little Moon.

BUT. Laudna! Miss “I would murder everyone around me if someone hurt you!”

You need to come to terms with the depth of love you have for Ms. Imogen! Cause I ain’t having this “What a good friend” thing for much longer!

But also…maybe tone down on the slaughter for love thing cause you’re starting to sound like the crazy bitch in your skull.

PS: Any of y’all remember when folks thought Fjord was from the Moon??? Don’t know if that still holds up XD

#critical role #cr c3 #critical role spoilers #cr imogen #cr laudna #imodna #imogen x laudna #cr fearne #cr orym #ruidus #somnovem #cr lucien #cr fjord

[c-is-for-circinate]

Post-Ep CR 138

I do not have smart thinky thoughts after that one, just a lot of aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, which is pretty par for where the whole group is at right now, I think, so at least we're on the same page.

If I am having feelings, though--and I do think I have feelings, not thoughts but emotions, such as they are--it's because, as Beau said: we're eight, and Lucien makes nine. This whole goddamn campaign, Bren Brennato and Fjord Stone, and always, always the number nine. Named for absolute nonsense, named for nein, for NO, for nothing (empty, empty, mt,). Named like a prophecy.

When bards tell this story, in aeons to come--after Beau survives, and brings the records of her journeys back to the Cobalt Soul, to be archived and catalogued and kept for future generations to cross-reference in esoteric graduate studies that never see the light of day outside of the abstruse corners of academic research on interplanar phenomena and ancient history--when somebody tells this story, they'll call it fate. They'll say it was always meant to be these nine people, eight on one side, and the ninth who was once their companion on the other, supplanting the nine of Somnovem. They'll ignore the fact that Essek was invited practically on a whim, that he's barely part of the group and an honorary member at best, that there's half a dozen people scattered around Wildemount who could say the same. It won't matter that Caduceus never met Molly, that Frumpkin and Artagan are there too, those complicating factors will all be brushed away in the wash of poetic prophetic history.

Someone, someone very poetic, once the events are all done and all that's left to do is look back on it and turn a series of random happenchance and wild desperate flailing into a story, is going to write a whole thesis on nine vs nein, group vs nothing, togetherness vs annihilation. They won't get it. They'll leave out the fact that the name was a fucking joke because these assholes are sarcastic self-deprecating motherfuckers. That the nein mostly just represents this group's readiness to be the most contrary crew of dicks ever to be found on any available occasion. They'll make it perfect and foreordained and meaningful. Whatever happens next, they will write it as though it's the only thing that ever could have happened, the thing that was always going to happen, destined from the moment half a dozen strangers walked into a tavern in Trostenwald, from the moments they were born, from the moment Aeor fell from the sky.

I hope the M9 remember the absolute bafflement of "what the fuck is even happening right now" they're facing right now. And they read the paper about predestination and fate and laugh, and Caduceus leans back and sips his tea and says, no, no, it was fate, we couldn't see it from the inside, but of course it was going to end like that. And some of them agree with him, and some of them roll their eyes, and they get on with their tea party group reunion, and don't worry too much more about how absolutely accidental any major success they stumble their way into will for sure be.

I'm too tired to make sense even in my own head, but the only way to get back to doing episode reaction posts again is to do them, at one in the morning, thinking about fate and coincidence. D&D is about the fact that all stories are told after the fact as a way to make sense of nonsensical events. In the mean time, there's a living city and nobody with any idea what happens next. I guess we'll find out when we get there.

#cr spoilers #episode 138

[angelsndragons]

fjord’s feelings for caduceus changed in episodes 98-99

by which i mean, fjord finally realized how special and important he is to caduceus, which in turn set the tone of their relationship for the rest of the campaign. buckle up, this is a long one.

not when fjord threw away his sword and went to caduceus instead of jester. or when caduceus presented him with the star razor. or after the citadel fight when caduceus gave him his holy symbol. i think things changed for fjord in episode 98-99, when caduceus saved his life and removed the orb.

this is going to require some context.

because here’s the thing: fjord’s always looking for the price, waiting for the catch or other shoe to drop. people caring for him because of him with no strings attached is unprecedented. vandren and the world taught fjord that love is conditional, that only if you hide what others would find ugly and make yourself useful to them will they deign to give you a scrap of affection. i don’t think vandren did this maliciously, mind you, it was just part of his worldview and fjord’s life up to and beyond that point supported it. we can see that right up to the end of the show, where fjord is terrified that vandren didn’t remember him or that he didn’t mean nearly as much to the man as vandren did to him.

so we have fjord, who learned to don masks and hide his truest self, including his best and worst aspects. while fjord made the nein into a coherent group, into a force, a crew, a family, even, he still waited for that other shoe to drop. waited for the day that they would reject him because he was no longer useful or because he pushed them too far. you can see this waiting all over the early campaign; he’s not looking for an excuse like caleb to cut and run but he anticipates nearly all the moments that almost fractured the nein, in spite of that low wisdom score. while jester carried the guilt of not being able to save molly, fjord carried the guilt of not protecting the group in that crucial moment. travis confirmed on talks that fjord’s biggest fear when he lost his powers the first time was that he would no longer be useful and be kicked out of the group. 

that’s why fjord damn near broke down at the end of 72. the nein, no questions asked, with their standard level of snark, accepted that he was going to be a liability and kept him around anyway. armed him anyway. declared that he was no liability and that they would help him along until he could help himself and them again. this unconditional acceptance caught fjord completely off guard. it always does, really. because caduceus had said for months, an out of game half a year, that he was looking to reforge the sword as a gift for fjord. he said this to fjord’s face. he did not change course when he learned that the sword was a legendary blade forged by acolytes of the wildmother and moonweaver. the blade was still meant for fjord, even if fjord was still chained to uk’otoa. fjord extends his love and protection to the nein but is still not convinced the reverse is true. he was starting to believe it but he wasn’t quite there yet.

caduceus has a high enough wisdom to understand that’s fjord’s hang up even if he doesn’t quite understand the reasoning behind it. that’s why he pulls fjord aside in ep 75 and tells him that he doesn’t have to choose the wildmother, that there are other gods and other ideas out there looking for a champion. fjord, who at this point considers wildmom his only option (travis says she’s the only one who’s shown the slightest interest in fjord and that’s why he’s gunning for her), is befuddled by caduceus and this whole talk, so much so the pair end up talking past each other for the next several episodes.

after fjord officially becomes a paladin, things between him and caduceus become fairly...unsettled compared to their previous interactions. they talk past each other more, they aren’t in sync enough to double team those social interactions they were just starting to get good at. things are just weird for a while. to me, that’s fjord waiting for the catch, waiting for caduceus to call in some favor or something like it. and he keeps getting confused when caduceus doesn’t. so he tries once or twice to follow in caduceus’ footsteps and do as he would instead. and it just makes things weirder. these two don’t have a moment together that doesn’t leave one of them confused or unsatisfied until ep 87, when caduceus gives fjord the holy symbol and inadvertently kicks off the next phase of their relationship. because here, caduceus tries to put them back on equal footing and fjord recognizes it. caduceus rejects framing their relationship as mentor/student and tells fjord he doesn’t need caduceus to give him answers. fjord is “well on his way.”

by defining what they aren’t, mentor/student, our two boys inadvertently ask the question, “so what are we?” honestly, it’s a question that the entire group grapples with in the 90s as they reintegrate yasha, as veth struggles with the question of changing back and whether she can stay with the nein, as beau tries to sacrifice herself for veth, as jester learns some uncomfortable truths about the traveler, as caduceus finds his family again. fjord and caduceus can easily define what they aren’t - not mentor/student, not brothers or cousins- but what they actually are stumps both of them.

their relationship doesn't look like any of their relationships with the others: beau is fjord's bro and first mate, caleb is fjord's complicated mirror and admiree, jester his crush and first person he learned to be vulnerable with, veth his antagonistic sibling. on caduceus' side, caleb is the one he looks to for a fellow project nerd and clear, unvarnished goals, beau and jester are the sisters caduceus misses, yasha the quiet beloved barbarian he understands better than the rest, and veth a mess he wants to help but can't. but fjord and caduceus' relationship is highly undefined at this point. notably undefined, beyond their newly shared connection to melora. at the dinner with essek, we get the stone bomb. and travis and fjord panic. like no, seriously, they spend the next four episodes low key panicking over this revelation. this ties back to fjord waiting for those other shoes to drop but it’s also more than that.

when it comes to destiny, fjord has always been the answer, the self made man, to both caduceus and caleb’s questions about destiny. he makes choices about who he is, who he wants to be, and takes actions towards those goals. he is one of those rare people who can wear many different masks, take on many different roles, while still maintaining his sense of self and becoming a fuller version of who he is. when I say fjord is the answer to destiny, what i mean is that he is what ioun said way back in c1 about Fate: mortals make choices and through those choices, destiny is fulfilled. he is the answer to caduceus' own growth from passive instrument waiting for someone to play him to active communicator in this conversation between gods and mortals. in this sense, fjord is what caduceus learns to be (this is exactly why caduceus rejects a mentor role; he has as much to learn from fjord as vice versa).

so for this coincidence to pop up, this idea that maybe fjord only had the illusion of choice to extend his service to the wildmother, that maybe somehow he was manipulated again, that there was some grand destiny pushing things and fjord had no say in it, yeah, i can see why fjord was low-key terrified. so is this what fjord and caduceus are: just some predestined grand fairy tale partnership neither of them have that much say in? episode 96 resoundingly rejects that label too. for one thing, none of the stones or clays treat fjord's last name as anything amazing or spectacular. for another, this string of episodes gives us caduceus at his most human. the terror of not knowing what happened to his family, the uncertainty of his homecoming, the relief of saving his family and home, the irritation at the way the chaos crew treats the temple, the playful attitude caduceus cultivates after, it's all on display. caduceus drops much of his placid exterior and willingly allows the nein to see sheer depth of emotion he has.

which leads me back to episode 98-99. uk’otoa’s agents come for fjord. and caduceus is pissed. travis and ashley both said on talks that they hadn’t really seen taliesin that pissed, that it was like someone had threatened an actual loved one of his. fjord dies. and comes back to an exhausted, still pissed off firbolg who is five seconds away from snapping archmage vess derogna’s head off for interrupting his prayer of healing. taliesin doesn’t even begin to relax until they start interrogating the dead fish people the next day. once caduceus confirms the ball is still in fjord, notably caduceus and caleb were the two who remembered, fjord starts asking for a way to remove it. he asks caduceus to start a commune with wildmom in tandem with jester’s commune with the traveler. caleb tells fjord that caduceus fought “very hard for you while you were down, i don’t know if he’s up to it.” having heard that, caduceus still tries, with his first divine intervention attempt of the campaign. and when jester figures out that greater restoration will work, caduceus pushes through his exhaustion, takes charge, and goes through a truly terrifying greater restoration with fjord to remove the ball. convulsing, seizing, shuddering, collapsing, etc.

in those moments, and in the quiet after when fjord confirms that he still has his powers, it finally hits him that yes, people can protect, fight, and love him for who he is alone. there is no chain or other shoe waiting to be dropped here. the wildmother is no uk’otoa, to punish or take power at a whim. caduceus will fight with everything he has and then some for fjord because he loves him (not for nothing does fjord only realizes the depths of jester’s feelings when she uses heal on him). who are caduceus and fjord to each other? they are people who will fight for one another and the others as far as they can. fjord says over and over again that he wants to protect the nein and look out for them because he cares for them. he demonstrates it over and over again as well. caduceus says basically the same thing; he wants everyone safe and happily on their way and will stay until they are. he demonstrates this all the time as well. this is, i think, the first time that he demonstrates his dedication so unequivocally, free of the artifice of duty, fully committed through love. fjord recognizes this in caduceus and caduceus does in fjord.

i say this is a turning point because, while they don���t really have another super in depth conversation alone together, these two start clocking each other and openly help and look out for each other. there’s an ease and intimacy to the relationship after this. fjord watching caduceus swim near vokodo’s lair, fjord being ready to hand over his armor to caduceus when it looks like his won’t be ready, fjord, caduceus, and beau plotting behind jester’s back to keep her safe from the traveler, the absolute offense fjord takes to eadwulf after he spoke to caduceus like that, fjord levels up in paladin after caduceus tells him he’s proud to know him, all the way to the end of the show when fjord shelters the clerics and tells them to finish lucien, we get little moments like these from both of them. hell, caduceus is the first person in the campaign to tell fjord directly that he loves him.

#cr #critical role #cr meta #fjorclay #wildbros #fjord #caduceus clay #prim did theirs so i'm doing mine #in b4 the wrap-up #just barely #and ran out of steam at the end #i'll expand on that later #gotta finish my vm v m9 meta #and the cockroach party analysis

[waiting4inspiration]

Love Again (Bjorn x Reader)

Summary: Every nine years, Vikings travel to Uppsala to worship the Gods. After everything that Bjorn’s been through, his wife leaving him and breaking his heart, things start to change when he meets the princess who has many stories behind her name; you. 

Warnings: it’s long and there’s still another part coming, angst, fluff, strong language, dueling, mentions of drinking, Uppsala stuff, I hope you guys enjoy it :))

Word Count: 4,306

A/n: So, this is actually a long, long overdue request from @honestlyya​ and there are quiet a few things that are different from the show. 1) Bjorn and Porunn never had baby Siggy, 2) Aslaug never happened so Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar are all children of Lagertha and they are older than they are at the point in the series when Porunn leaves. This is all part of the request. 

Vikings Masterlist

The last time Bjorn was at Uppsala, he was a child and his sister was still alive. Now, he is a man, with four brothers, and a wife that left him because of her insecurities of the scar on her face. He doesn’t expect his heart to be healed by the Gods over the next nine days. But, perhaps coming here was a good idea. It might give him a chance to forget Porunn, for his heart to heal. 

Many people from different parts of the country come to Uppsala. Sometimes, people from other lands come to celebrate and give sacrifices to the Gods. When Bjorn sees an army-like group arrive, one man carrying a purple banner with a sword and ax crossing each other, only one person catches his eye. The woman leading the army. 

You look behind you as the men and women following you split up to either visit the temple or set up tents for the nights. Now that you have time for yourself, you have to decide what to do with yourself. But when your gaze lands on the temple, a bright smile grows on your face. 

Bjorn hears Ivar walking towards him with those heavy, uneven steps because of the crutch he uses to walk. He stands beside his oldest brother, follows his gaze to find out what or who he’s staring at, only to chuckle when he sees his gaze fixed on you. “You stare at (Y/n) of Forsa.” Ivar’s words make Bjorn’s head snap to him and his eyes grow slightly wide. 

For someone so talked about, Bjorn never thought this is what you’d look like. He never expected someone called The Protector of Forsa, someone whose skills with a blade are told like sagas about the Gods, to capture his attention with just one look. 

He remembers how Porunn caught his attention and how he fell for her the first time he laid eyes on her. The feeling now is almost similar. Except this time, the feeling that draws his eyes to you is stronger than what he felt with his past wife. 

Even though you don’t come from Norway or worship the Gods Bjorn and his people do, you and your people make it important to educate yourselves in the culture of others. Bjorn knows your people speak many languages because of that. And seeing you here in Uppsala only makes Bjorn’s broken heart jump in excitement. Especially when you turn your head and your gaze meets his. 

Two people walk up to you, the King and Queen of Forsa, and you turn to greet them with a bright smile and a hug. Your parents, making you… “The princess of Forsa,” Bjorn finishes his thoughts out loud, making Ivar who still stands beside him chuckle and nod his head. 

On top of the story of being a fierce warrior, you’ve raised your own army to fight in your father’s name. It must have been your army that he saw arriving with you. 

To break his stare, Ivar shoves Bjorn’s shoulder with his and nods to Ragnar and Lagertha nearing you and the King and Queen of Forsa. “Are you going to spend the nine days staring at her and pouting, or are you going to talk to her?” Ivar questions, looking up to him when Bjorn turns his head to look at his young brothers. 

Bjorn sighs, turns his head back to look at you as you greet Ragnar and Lagertha, and bites the inside of his cheek before he starts to walk forward. Unaware that his other three brothers have now joined Ivar to see these events unfold because he keeps his eyes on you, he takes in a deep breath as your head turns to face him. 

“King Hurr, Queen Vealda, this is our oldest son, Bjorn Ironside,” Ragnar states with a proud smile on his face as he holds his hand out to gesture to Bjorn. 

He simply nods his head to your mother and father before looking back at you. “Princess (Y/n). I have heard many stories about you,” Bjorn says, taking your hand in his and bringing up to kiss the back of your knuckles, all while keeping his eyes locked with yours. 

Lagertha notices this, notices the look in his eyes and the lingering hold he has on your hand, only letting go when you smile at him and smile. “About me, or my army?” you ask, slightly tilting your head to the side as he smirks down at you. 

“Why not both?” he responds, making you smile and turn your gaze to your mother who nods her head in approval. “I’d like to hear things from your side,” he mentions, taking a small step forward and making your head turn back to him. 

“It would be my pleasure, Bjorn Ironside,” you reply, turning to start walking away and nodding for him to join you. 

Your parents and his watch you both walk away, the conversation starting lightly between both of you and a smile never leaving your face. Your father turns to Ragnar, pleased to see the two of you getting along right from the beginning. “I have a feeling we shall talk again before leaving Uppsala,” Hurr mentions as he takes his wife’s hand and starts to walk away. 

That night, you told Bjorn all about your travels with your army and the places you’ve been where you’ve learned new languages and cultures. 

Bjorn only met you yesterday and he wants to spend the next day with you. He has his family’s permission, his brothers are more than happy that he’ll be out of their hair, and his parents happy that he’s not moping around still about Porunn. They’re all happy that he’s finding something to keep his mind preoccupied from his past wife. 

Walking around the grove, between those still drunk from the previous night or passed out from the effects of alcohol or other substances, he’s certain he won’t find you among these people. He’s certain he’ll find you either at or still in your tent where he led you last night after your long talk with him. 

He finds you, seated in front of your tent with a sword in front of you and a grinding stone in your hand that you run up and down the blade. There’s a calm look on your face as you focus on the blade in front of you, and it makes him smile to himself. 

“Couldn’t help yourself?” he asks, breaking your focus on your sword and making your gaze lift to him as he steps closer to you. 

Seeing him makes you smile, especially when you remember the previous night. “No, I’m making sure I’m ready for tomorrow,” you mention, placing your sword to the side and standing to your feet. “One of my men has initiated a duel tomorrow and I couldn’t refuse,” you explain, placing your hands on your hips as he comes to stand in front of you. 

He chuckles, nods his head, and glances down to your sword for a moment before looking at you again. “I thought I might ask if you’d like to join me for a walk. To the fjord?” he asks, nodding in the direction away from the temple and in the direction of a cliff that looks over the fjord some use when they arrive in ships. 

Biting your lip, you glance over his shoulder to where he gestures before nodding to your head. He breathes a silent sigh of relief and turns to walk by your side when you walk forward. “I must say, I didn’t expect you to want to spend more time with me after I bored you last night,” you chuckle, folding your hands in front of you and dropping your gaze to the ground. 

“If anything, I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night,” he mentions, his words making your heart skip a beat and your head snap up to him. “It’s been a long time since something like that has happened for me.”

You hum, nod your head as you turn your head back to look in front of you. “You don’t have a wife?” you question, thinking that it might be wrong for him to think about another woman when he has a wife. He looks about the age where he could have one, and you’re sure that women throw themselves at the sons of Ragnar’s feet. 

Hearing him take in a sharp breath, you slowly turn your head up to him and find him staring at his feet with a sorrowful look on his face. Was it the wrong question for you to ask? Are you prying in places you shouldn’t?

He looks down at you, that sad look still on his face, as if he’s just had his heart broken and it makes you stop walking for just a minute. “No. I don’t have a wife,” he states, tearing his gaze away from you again before he starts to walk again. 

You bite your lip, think for a moment if this means that he no longer wishes to be in your presence anymore and if you should turn back. But, after a few steps, he stops and turns his head over his shoulder to look at you. “Tell me about your siblings,” he says, encouraging you to join him again. It makes you smile as you walk forward. 

“Well, I have one very much older brother who married when I was young,” you state as you and he start walking again. “And that’s where it ends. I’m afraid my family isn’t as interesting as yours,” you add with a small laugh. A laugh that makes Bjorn smile and treasures the sound. 

“I used to have a sister. Who I imagine would have become a shieldmaiden,” Bjorn mentions, and you stare up at him, waiting for him to carry on. “She died when a plague came to Kattegat,” he simply states, keeping his eyes in front of him as his jaw goes tense. 

You reach up to touch his arm and his head turns to look at where your hand touches him, the sight making his heart flutter and the corner of his lips to pull slightly into a smile. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, giving him a gentle smile which he returns. “I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose my brother,” you say, dropping your hand away from his arm as you fold your hands together. “At least you have four brothers now.”

He hums, smiles to himself as the memory of the teases his brothers sang before he left to find you, either at each other or at him. It never stops with them, and Bjorn suspects that’s what happens when there are so many boys in a house. 

“They definitely keep everyone on their feet. Each other, me, my mother and father,” he mentions, making you chuckle and bite your lip as you nod your head at his words. 

“That reminds me of my brother,” you say, turning your head up to him as you smile. Bjorn can see that you’re thinking of a memory. “Always keeping me on my toes.”

How could he forget about the duel you told him about? It was the first thing on his mind when he woke that morning and the only thing he wished to do was to go and see if it had already started. From the sounds he hears the moment he steps out of the small cabin for him and his family - the royal family of Kattegat - he gathers that this duel might have already started. 

Bjorn follows the cheers, shouting, and the sound of swords clashing with shields, ringing as they hit one another. Hvitserk and Ubbe join Bjorn on his way to your family’s side of the grove, eager to get involved themself, should it come to that. 

Just in time to see you with your sword against a young-looking opponent’s neck and his against yours, Bjorn can’t help a smile growing on his face, especially when he sees the determination on your face. Determination to win. 

The crowd that consists mostly of the men from your army urges you and your opponent to carry on, not wanting this fight to end so easily. The uproar when you both come to a standstill, panting heavy breathes only entices you more. 

Discarding your shield to the side, you pull out a battle knife and push away from your opponent. Snarling at him as you slightly crouch down to prepare for an attack, he throws his shield to the side and rolls his shoulders as he starts to walk around you. 

You do the same, both of you waiting for the other to attack. But you know, never attack first. It shows impulsiveness, not cunning. And as your opponent rushes towards you with a battle cry, you’re quick to step to the side, trap his sword between yours and your battle knife to disarm him. 

Then, you press the knife against his chest and the sword to his throat, a victorious smile on your face. “Will there ever be a time when you won’t come out on top, princess?” your opponent chuckles as you pull away, sheathing your knife and shrugging your shoulders. 

“There is still much you must learn if you wish to defeat me one day,” you mention, patting him on the shoulder before he walks away in his defeat. “Anyone else want to have a try?” you ask, glancing around the crowd gathering around you. 

Ubbe looks up at Bjorn, sees the deep stare he has on you, and smiles to himself as he pushes him forward. “My brother will have a go.” His words make Bjorn’s head snap over his shoulder to coldly glare at him. 

You turn toward the noise to see your new opponent, your smile slowly falling when you see Bjorn looking back at you. But you're not upset. If anything, you’re slightly concerned about yourself having to duel someone so...build like a God. It would be a bit of a challenge for you, you think. 

But you never say no to a challenge. 

Someone hands Bjorn a sword and a shield, making him take his eyes off of you for a moment. When he does look back at you, he sees that you’ve opted to not have a shield which makes him refuse one too. Instead, you go for another sword. 

He meets you in the center of the circle created by those that have gathered to watch this duel and you both touch swords, a sign of a friendly battle that’s about to come. You smile at him as you take a step back, twirling the swords in your hands as you roll your shoulders back. Bjorn smirks back at you, ready to see what it will be like to fight against you, someone he’s heard much about when it comes to fighting. An amazing shieldmaiden. 

Expecting you to make the first move, he stops your blade midair and then realizes how close you have come. He gets the chance to stare into your eyes once more, as he had yesterday.

You push him back, your sword ringing against his and making the crowd cheer. Bjorn had a feeling you wouldn’t go easy on him, but he can’t help notice the playful smirk you have on your face as he readies himself for another attack. It’s a smirk that makes him chuckle to himself. 

His mind wanders, thinking about what it would be like to train with you. Alone. What he wouldn’t give to be alone with you right now. He cherishes the moment he spent with you since he met you and he hopes, he prays to the Gods that they will give him more time with you. 

As he loses himself in his thoughts for a second, you attack again. This time, with both swords. Bjorn quickly snaps back to reality and just manages to swing his sword to counter your attack. He had no idea you have so much force behind an attack. You must be deadly on a battlefield, he thinks. 

Many men are rooting for Bjorn, probably hoping to see you lose at least one fight so that they can get back the money they had lost on bets against you. “You might have a chance,” you speak, pressing your swords harder against his. He knows you’re talking about the men urging him to defeat you. “If you concentrated a bit more.”

He laughs, swings his sword to push yours away, and then moves to attack you in three strong blows which send you walking backward. “You don’t have to tell me how to fight,” he teases.

Then he brings his sword down with all the force he has, making you fall on one knee with your swords crossed above your head to stop him. The crowd abrupts in a loud cheer for no one has ever brought you so close to the ground. 

But the fight is not over yet. 

Even though you’re panting, you fight to pull his sword out of his hands to disarm him. But just as you push yourself onto your feet again, Bjorn grabs your wrist and takes a sword from you before you can win this duel. He doesn’t let go and instead pulls you closer to him so your chest presses against him. The crowd goes quiet. 

“When can I be alone with you again?” The question falls from his lips, making you smile and shift slightly on your feet as you think about an answer. “Tomorrow night?” 

You can’t stop yourself from nodding. “Yes,” you whisper, stepping back and dropping your sword to your side as a bright smile spreads across your face. 

Bjorn watches you turn and walk away, his heart swelling in happiness that he’ll get to spend time alone with you again. It’s guaranteed that he’ll see you again and that you want to see him again. 

As you walk out of the ring, the crowd mutters among themselves to debate who won this duel. 

“And who are you seeing that you’re making a fuss of how you look?” your mother speaks as she walks in on you picking at the braids in your hair to make them look a bit more decent. Her voice makes you turn around with a loud gasp before you smile and look down at the ground in slight embarrassment. 

You bite your lower lip as she steps forward to you when you give a small shrug. “I decided to spend tonight’s feast with Bjorn Ironside,” you say, looking up at her with a small smile on your face. “He asked yesterday and I said yes.”

She smiles brightly, reaches up to run her finger over one of the braids in your hair, and chuckles to herself. You rarely bother to do so much with your hair. The last time you made so much fuss...well, it was when you had your eyes on a man. “You wouldn’t want to wear a dress tonight?”

Her words make you groan and roll your eyes as you duck under her arm to get away from her touch. “It’s not like that, mother. I just enjoy his company,” you mention, turning around to face her as you walk backward. “That’s it.” Your stubbornness makes her chuckle, but she holds her hands up in defeat, saying that she won’t say more.

“Who should I thank for making my daughter want to look like a princess tonight?” your father asks in a joking tone as he walks in. 

You give him a stern look that makes him laugh and hold his arm out to allow you to leave, which you do quickly to avoid any more questions. Your father then looks up at your mother, both of them smiling because they both know very well what’s going on even if you don’t. “She likes him,” your mother speaks, making your father hum as he wraps his arms around her waist. 

“Let’s just hope he’s not like the last one.”

The smile that grows on your face when you see Bjorn waiting in the spot he said he would be. There are people around that are celebrating in their own ways, drinking, laughing, or other activities. But it looks like Bjorn’s idea of spending the feast tonight with you is something a bit more relaxed. It will give you a chance to get to know him more and for him to ask you questions himself. 

That was probably his plan from the beginning, you think to yourself. 

Bjorn pushes himself off the tree when he spots you, his arms that were folded over his chest fall to his side and he gives a big smile as he walks forward to meet you before you reach his selected spot. 

“I’m glad you came,” he says, reaching down for your hand and raising it so he can place a kiss on the back of your knuckles. 

You bite your lip at the action and suppress a giggle from escaping. Bjorn thinks of you as a fierce warrior. A flustered giggle will ruin that and you don’t wish for that to happen. “I said I would join you and I’m not one to go back on my promise,” you chuckle, looking down at your hand when he doesn’t let go of it. 

He smirks and gently pulls you toward the spot. “I didn’t take you for someone who does in any case,” he mentions. 

Glancing around you, your mouth drops at what Bjorn has laid out. A blanket under a tree with bowls of food and a jug with two cups close by. There are no candles, but it’s bright enough with the moonlight shining down through the gaping hole in the canopy above that also shows a few stars. It’s amazing. “I would have thought you would have women lining up to be with you if you’re so romantic,” you joke, gently pulling your hand out of his as you sit down on the blanket. 

“If they are, I haven’t noticed,” he says, dropping down to sit beside you and reaching for the jug of ale and the two cups. “You’re the first woman to have caught my eye since…” He pauses, thinks to himself if he wants to say what’s on the tip of his tongue or not. “Since I lost my wife.”

What’s the point in keeping it a secret? You were bound to find out one way or another whether it be one of his brothers mentioning it out or you hear it from someone else. 

You blink at him in shock, not knowing which to focus on more; his compliment or the fact that he had a wife before but lost her. “I thought-” you stop. It would be distasteful to mention that you thought he didn’t have a wife. You can see the sadness on his face after he mentioned her. You don’t want to step over any boundaries. 

“That I didn’t have a wife?” he asks, turning his head to look at you as he hands you the filled cup. “No. She left a long time ago.” 

A lump grows in your throat and you roughly swallow past it as you watch Bjorn take a long sip from his cup. “What happened?” you softly ask, not knowing if it’s okay to ask that question.

“She…” His head drops between his shoulders as he breathes out a long sigh. “She was scarred across her face during a battle and was never the same since that. I didn’t know what to do to help her. She wouldn’t let me help her. I went with my father to Paris on a raid and when I came back, she was gone,” he explains, refusing to look at you and keeps his eyes on the cup of ale in his hands. “No one has seen or heard of her since.”

You can see he loved her. Truly loved her. And you can tell how broken his heart must have been when he came home to find her gone. It makes you reach out to place a hand over his, making his head turn up to look at you at last. “She meant a lot to you,” you whisper.

Bjorn turns his hand so he can lace his fingers with yours, locks his eyes with yours, and leans slightly closer. “She did. But not anymore.”

Catching his eyes flickering down to your lips, you breathe in a sharp breath that makes your lips part slightly. Your heart hammers in your chest and your skin goes hot. And when he presses his lips to yours, your mind explodes in an array of contradicting thoughts. 

You want to kiss him back, you want to allow yourself to let go of your past. But it still scares you. Thinking about the past few days, you realize how close you’ve gotten to Bjorn, how your feelings have grown so for him and it scares you even more. What if you’re wrong about him just like you were wrong about…

Stopping yourself from thinking about that, you pull away from Bjorn, break the kiss and shake your head to yourself. “I can’t. I’m sorry,” you whisper, pulling your hands out from his and placing the cup to the side as you stand. “I should go.”

Bjorn doesn’t have a chance to say anything to stop you from leaving and he’s left alone in confusion. He has no idea what happened and doesn’t know if he did something wrong. All he knows is that he’s certain he heard a tone of fright in your voice. 

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#bjorn #bjorn ironside imagine #Bjorn Ironside #bjorn x reader #bjorn imagine #bjorn imagines #bjorn lothbrok #vikings #viking #vikings fanfic #bjorn ironside x reader #vikings bjorn #bjorn ragnarsson #history vikings

[mithrilwren]

Here we go, the cadwulf that wouldn’t let me sleep in this morning. How did this ship happen to me so quickly, and why did my brain decide it needed to be poetic... these are questions that may never be answered.

[Also on Ao3!]

“You don’t like meat, and you don’t like drink.” Eodwulf grins, arms uncrossing. “Is there anything you do like?”

“Well,” says Caduceus.

Eodwulf’s fingers brush the edge of his hair.

“Well?”

And Caduceus never finishes the thought.

---

It turns out they can be persuaded - Astrid, and Eodwulf. Though it’s really Astrid who accepts their second invitation. Eodwulf’s eyes flicker to her before agreeing, and Caduceus notices, as he did the night of the dinner. A hierarchy, it seems, wherein Trent is lord, and Astrid advisor - which leaves Eodwulf a vassal of some sort. Not unacknowledged, but lower down.

Still, when Astrid has drifted to the bar and Caleb and Jester follow, and Fjord and Veth ply Eodwulf for one more round, he has no one to look to for guidance. Caduceus might have expected him to seem lost, except he flourishes under the inattention, growing bolder, more boastful - challenging Yasha to a test of strength, and losing, but only just - and Caduceus’s own attention grows, as bulky muscle strains beneath fine black velvet.

(Tonight, it was Eodwulf who pulled back his chair. “A favour for a favour,” he’d said with a wink, and Caduceus would not have blushed, only it’s strange - nobody’s paid him the courtesy before.

But Eodwulf’s dark eyes were shining with mirth, and he’d blinked his own brighter ones, and taken a seat without a single word of protest.)

The evening is spent in distraction. Eodwulf and Astrid, from their lives of solitude and scrambling; the Mighty Nein, from the next long road ahead; and Caduceus, from his good senses. It’s an indulgence, to pretend that Eodwulf’s attentions to him are anything beyond a man who appreciates a like sense of humour. But Caduceus pretends nonetheless, and grows freer by measures, enjoying the warmth of good natured teasing as much as any liquor flush.

Flirting, he’s tried before, but it never seemed to hit the mark, and his own eyes flicker to Fjord, and Caduceus brings them forcefully back to Eodwulf’s hands on the table - now rough there, now soft another place - one slapping for another drink, the other calling Caduceus over - and Melora help him, he goes.

For the wine of attention is sweet, and sticky red on Eodwulf’s lips, and he thinks he should be allowed to taste it, while he has the chance.

Surely, by now, he’s earned that much.

---

Caduceus is not a man quick to anger. If pressed, he would say he hates nothing at all.

But he hates-

He hates Trent Ikithon.

He hates what he’s done to Caleb, and what he continues to do to the people in his care, and he hates that his lies are not lies in a way Caduceus can discern with a keen eye and a careful glance. They are written in the bone, in the flesh. The body is so corrupted it can no longer tell rot from flower, nor truth from falsehood.

There is no saving this man.

But there may be hope for the others.

Righteous rebellion is the name he gives to the fluttering in his stomach, as they draw Eodwulf - Astrid as well - closer into their circle. A big ol’ middle finger to Trent, as Beau would say. To save someone who sees no way out, from under the nose of a being of impossible strength-

He’s done it before.

So, too, he names the fluttering excitement, and anticipation. Even remembrance, of the way Fjord looked at him, the day he’d given him the Wildmother’s symbol, and Caduceus had almost thought-

But no, he’d thought wrong.

And here he is, ready to make the same mistakes again.

Eodwulf looks at him from across the table. Astrid is down the way, but he never once glances her direction as he asks, “Something not agreeing with you?”

It’s care, in a gruff sort of sense. His deep voice rumbles through Caduceus’s chest, in the way he knows his own does for other people. Yasha sometimes says that it helps her sleep, so he’ll talk the night away, telling nonsense stories until they both drift off.

What would it be like, to curl up in those arms, be held close to that impossibly broad chest? To be small, and large as well - as much as he needs, in whatever direction?

He pushes the thought away.

(Sometimes, he tires of being the one who has to know where the lines are.)

Eodwulf taps his fingers on the table, still looking at him thoughtfully. “I could use some air,” he says, and raises an eyebrow. Caduceus nods, unable to break Eodwulf’s steady gaze, because try as he might, the thought keeps returning, again and again.

They leave together, slipping out into the Rexxentrum night, and the rational part of Caduceus’s mind cries danger, to be separated from his party and alone in the company of their enemy’s servant, and the lonely part cries he wants you, he wants you, in a reckless, unquenchable clamour.

“I know a place,” Eodwulf says, “where it’s a little quiet,” and Caduceus knows the words, and the words beneath. He is not so young, so naive, to miss the subtleties of Eodwulf’s speech.

‘A little quiet’ means to be alone. And to be alone is…

He half expects to be led off to some back alley out of Jester’s tales - for murder or something else, who can say - but the streets Eodwulf takes him by are wide and well-lit. Caduceus’s foreign clothes are noticeable even in the dead of night, and people stop to stare as they pass by, eyes drifting over Eodwulf like a shadow to land on him. His hair, his height, his dress - all abnormalities perused and catalogued, before people resume their nighttime strolls.

It’s not unusual, nor particularly bothersome, to be watched. But one older gentleman stares a little too long, and doesn’t stop staring even after Caduceus dips his head in friendly greeting, and something in the air changes. A hand reaches out and grips Caduceus’s arm, drawing him back into the centre of the street. Eodwulf appears suddenly - though he was always there, Caduceus remembers. It’s just that his presence wasn’t felt, until now.

It must take practice, for a man the size of Eodwulf to disappear. Through magic, Caduceus can manage the same, but it’s more of a reflex - the trigger is fear, and the duration beyond his control. But Eodwulf becomes a shadow, then a looming gargoyle of a man, then a shadow once more, and all of it is done with intention. He doesn’t doubt that the watcher would be dead before Caduceus could blink, if that’s what Eodwulf decided to do.

He grins at Caduceus as the man scurries away, and Caduceus returns the smile faintly, and wonders, who have I let myself follow into the dark?

He finds he knows the answer, and it doesn’t frighten him like it should.

The fluttering returns, moth wings between his ribs beating in time with Eodwulf’s heavy steps - loud and obvious, like they weren’t before. Like a war drum, their march is a warning for anyone else who might darken their path.

See, this is my street to walk. See, this person is under my protection. Hear me, and stay back.

They come at last to their destination: a little park with scattered trees, at the centre of which sits a stone building. Its sides are carved with olive branches and vines, and its doors are shut, and the coldness of death seeps from every crevice, and mingles with the dewy scent of grass and yesterday’s rain.

Eodwulf leads him to a bench, and they sit side by side, listening to the breeze in the leaves, not speaking, though Caduceus still has many things to say. He wants to ask where they are. He wants to know if Eodwulf talked to one of his friends about him, and if that’s the reason he brought him to a mausoleum, instead of some sweeter daytime sight.

He silently wonders if they both feel at home in a graveyard, and if there has ever been anyone else, who looked at one with the same reverence as him.

“It’s quiet here,” Eodwulf answers, as though he had asked, and Caduceus nods.

“It is,” he agrees. There’s nothing more that needs to be said on the matter, and somehow they both know it, without needing words. Eodwulf crosses his arms over his chest and leans back, tipping his head to stare at the stars above, and Caduceus tries to mimic him, but the bench isn’t meant for a person of his stature, and he ends up sitting straight again.

“So,” Eodwulf says, casual enough to tell Caduceus the conversation is about to become anything but. “So, you came.”

“I did,” Caduceus answers, and his voice is steady, but a smile doesn’t find his lips. Eodwulf turns his head, shifting, until the meat of his shoulders is facing Caduceus.

“I’m glad.” The twinkle in his eye is still there, and his lips hold the smile that Caduceus lost, as he shifts again, bringing their knees together. Caduceus swallows. “I thought you looked bored in there.”

“I don’t mind a tavern… but I also don’t drink,” Caduceus answers noncommittally. “So it does get a little dull at times.”

Eodwulf huffs a laugh, and sits back up. “You don’t like meat, and you don’t like drink.” His smile becomes a grin, his arms uncrossing, and Caduceus follows their movement with his eyes, mouth dry as kindling. “Is there anything you do like?”

“Well,” he says, with nothing to come after it. The moth in his chest beats its protest against the silence.

There’s a line here - a line, that he’s meant to keep track of. That he’s not meant to-

“Well?”

And then again, there are fingers in his hair, and then again, there’s a mouth close to his, and warm breath, rich with ale and bread and earthy things, and then again, Eodwulf is confident, and his grin is sure, and maybe-

He doesn’t need to be the only one who knows where the lines are.

Caduceus meets him halfway, and then lets himself be pulled closer, and closer, as fingers tangle in his hair, and broad arms encircle his back. He opens his mouth, and Eodwulf follows, and the wine is sharp on his tongue, for being the first he’s tasted. But the flavour changes, the longer he drinks.

No longer startling in its newness, the feeling melts down to something softer.

A new taste: heavy, and warm, and sweet.

#critical role #cr spoilers #cadwulf #my writing #this is barely edited but i had so much fun

[saphirered]

The first and only time Lucien displayed any vulnerability was when Jester called him "dreamy," after which he alluded to an unpleasant upbringing. I was wondering if you could write something wherein the reader (human) shows interest in him? Being his typical, condescending self, he thinks it's because the reader was with Molly, only to find out the reader is genuinely interested in him, and maybe that thaws his heart a little?

I hope this turned out to your liking. Love me a condescending tiefling who doesn't acknowledge views other than his own. Hope you enjoy! 😘

Lucien, previously mostly indifferent to you, has been keeping his distance after you read him like an open book in the card reading incident with Jester. Maybe having this bunch of gullible but curious adventurers tagging along was a terrible idea after all. Maybe best get rid of them now before it’s too late. But there you are being your stupid charming, beautiful self and something within him hesitates, even more so than with the others. You are an enigma he needs to figure out. Right now you’re an obstacle standing in the way of his goal because every second he’s paying more attention to you, he’s less on guard and that might just compromise his endgame.

Lucien is entertaining the thought to just talk his way into your bed, and get it over with. Maybe once he’s gotten his bias for you out of his system he can get back to work. Besides, you’ve shown some interest in him already, rooted in your connection with the fragment previous to his own return. Same face, same body, a few shared traits maybe, but not the same person. A fatal flaw on your end…

Perhaps Lucien can turn this into leverage, play into the parts you might latch onto believing that maybe the fragment might return to the surface if you call to him. Or play into your feelings for the fragment, play sympathetic and play upon a mutual interest. Because maybe if he plays along, you could be the game changer, the leverage, and give him answers and insights in this Mighty Nein. You might be the key to all the answers he’s seeking. And if achieving this goal results in the two of you sleeping together, two birds one stone. There’s no negative outcome for him here. Either you turn on your friends and join him or eventually stand against him and he’d already have gotten what he wants from you.

From the moment you met Lucien it was abundantly clear he’s not Molly. Yes there are some similarities and habits they share but beyond a surface level they’re very different. That doesn’t mean you weren’t curious to get to know this version of the tiefling. While he has many flaws, some that cannot be overlooked, there’s something about Lucien that commands attention. With how closed off this version is you played into the parts you did recognise, if only to make your encounters with him a bit more pleasant and less tense, be that for yourself or others around you.

Your encounters, especially when eventually traveling together grew more frequent and less tense to the point one could call them enjoyable. Of course the Nein caught onto this and saw it as hope their, your Mollymauk might still be in there. He might, maybe not in the way they hoped. Right now Lucien is here and he’s here to stay. Even from the start you didn’t want to make enemies with the man be that out of self preservation, your own curiosity or something else entirely. Making enemies with the Nonagon just seemed stupid and getting to know him, looking past all the theatrics he put up for the Nein, he’a actually a half decent person.

You’d been making progress, getting to know Lucien, spending more time with him. From the start you didn’t hide the fact that you may or may not have a thing for him. Seems like your taste hasn’t changed; charming enigmatic drama queens with great style, a dash of egoism and some hedonism thrown into the mix. It was all going well and you could see the walls slowly beginning to crumble giving you a peak behind the curtain; Lucien without the facade but then Jester came along with Molly’s cards. Curiosity peaked of course Lucien took her up on her offer of a reading.

You saw that twitch, saw the walls come down and you got a peak behind the curtain just like you had wanted. Only it lasted much shorter than you had hoped the walls rose and the curtain closed once more. You got some insights in his past based of his responses and with how close attention you were paying you know he was aware of what you were able to glean. You kind of pity him for the past he went through even the present he lives now. You recall Molly deflecting, changing the subject, doing anything to avoid confrontation if it didn’t suit him. After that card reading you got the same from Lucien this time in the form of a cold shoulder. Dammit Jester. Now you have to find a way to fix this.

The others are asleep in the dome save for Fjord currently keeping watch and you awake and bothered. A ways away at a comfortable distance is the camp of the Tombtakers. They too are asleep with the exception of Lucien who sits in front of the fire staring into the flames. Getting up with a soft puff you make eye contact with Fjord. A confused ‘where are you going?’ glance from the half-orc leads you to respond with a nod in the direction of Lucien which in turn leads to a non-verbal argument with the man, an argument that won’t stop you so when the last is said and done you just wave and step outside of the bubble, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders to block out the cold Eiselcross air.

You’re not deliberately quiet padding your way through the thick layer of snow and know full well you should be in sight of Lucien but he doesn’t in any way respond to you. His eyes stay trained on the fire in front of him so you walk up beside him. The cold very much bothers you and you’re beginning to regret your decision of walking out of the comforts of the dome just because you want to sort out this sudden cold behaviour towards you and get it over with. It may take a leap of faith to do so but if that’s what it takes, that’s exactly what you’ll do.

“Hey, I could really do with some of the perks of that infernal bloodline if you don’t mind.” You nudge his leg with your foot pulling the blanket around your shoulders just a little bit tighter. Shaken out of whatever trance Lucien had allowed himself to slip in he looks up at you.

“If you’re so cold you can go back to the comforts of that dome so handily provided by your wizard friend.” Ouch. That’s icy cold but you haven’t come this far by just accepting rude comments. You’re stubborn and you’re not backing down just yet.

“Don’t patronise me.” You sit down keeping a good foot or so between the two of you as you stare into the flames, the warmth not nearly enough to actually keep you comfortable, you’re shivering. Your presence alone puts Lucien on edge so here you’ll stay. Besides, if you get hypothermia, the clerics can fix you right?

About fifteen minutes pass and your quivering doesn’t end, your breath visible in the air, you are a constant nuisance to his previously peaceful evening of plotting. Why did you have to leave your bloody bubble and come bother him? Because right now you’re the only thing on his mind and all previous queries and grand plans have left his brain and there’s only you. Maybe you’ll just leave if he keeps this going? No you won’t. Lucien knows you longer than today and once you’ve set your mind to something you’re not letting go until you’re satisfied. Right now you’re anything but satisfied.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with because I need to get back to figuring out if you lot will remain useful or a thorn in my drawers. What do you want?” Lucien sneers studying you. His red eyes harsh, you get a clear view of the frustration and tension.

“We’re cutting the crap? Okay. All fine with me.” You clasp your hands together and lean your chin on them as you address the tiefling. “Why have you been avoiding me and giving me the cold shoulder ever since you showed an ounce of vulnerability?” Two can play this game and if you know anything from Molly it’s that if you get him frustrated and on edge he’s more likely to let things slip he’d usually keep in. By the looks of it Lucien isn’t much different in that aspect but he has a bit more self control.

“Perhaps I’m just done playing the part of a long gone fragment you’re desperate to hold onto, darling. It’s been fun but the game’s over.” Lucien’s this close to deadpanning that sentence. Close but not close enough. You laugh almost disappointed. Such a blatant lie, you expected better from this one.

“Laugh all you want. The game is over.”

“You’ve spent too much time with people agreeing with you all the time that you seem to have forgotten what it’s like to have your views misalign with that of another.”

“Now you’re the one patronising me.” He jabs back. Eyebrow raised you press your lips together. So looks like it’s not going to take much for you to get answers out of Lucien.

“I’m not the one spooked by some cards and the notion of showing a fraction of vulnerability in a moment the majority won’t even catch on to let alone understand.” Lucien turns to face you and glares.

“Are you done yet?” Oh you’re not nearly done but you also know Lucien can be fickle and you don’t want to push too far. You’ve got one more up your sleeve. Okay maybe a few more… Should you give him a choice on which one he’d like to address? You snort. Lucien grabs you by the shoulder and turns you to face him with disapproving expression trying to cover the frustration and how much you’re getting on his nerves right now; less because of your attitude and more because of his own issues.

“So your game ends before you weasel your way into my bed and attempt to use me for your own benefit, manipulate me until I spill all my friends and I’s secrets, and cast me aside once I’ve outlived my usefulness?” Nail. On. The Head. Lucien’s taken aback by that one. The shock’s clear and he does not like it at all you caught him off guard by exposing his plans just like that when you’d been playing along just as he had been trying to get you to.

“How’s that been working out for you? Or do you count attachment as a weakness now as well? Since vulnerability already is a major one in your opinion.” Lucien takes the verbal attacks and he’s none to happy about it. He’s just lost his advantage, or at least the advantage he thought he had. Maybe he got so caught up in this little game that the line between him playing and him actually being blurred and you just called him out on exactly that.

“Depends. How well is it working for you?”

“You trying to charm your way into my bed? Peachy. You trying to manipulate me by playing into the shared traits between my dead companion and you. You’re doing terrible. Maybe your own feelings got in the way? Is attraction also a weakness then?” Lucien’s fist clenches as you yet again air his dirty laundry. This habit has to stop, for his sake.

“Very well then, since me charming my way into your arms has been going so smoothly, let’s get this over with and go our separate ways that we for once and all can confirm your fragment is never coming back and I can get you out of my head.”

“If you think that’s going to solve all your problems then I fully consent but I highly doubt that will fix anything since your own interests in me won’t just go away by sleeping with me. That’s not how these things work.” No use in beating around the bush and while he’d rather not admit it Lucien considered the fact that just getting rid of the jitters won’t get rid of his feelings towards you. Damn you. This would have been so much easier if you would just prove him right even if he wasn’t.

“Then what do you suggest? We kiss and make up and go our separate ways?” Lucien huffs and you roll your eyes. Anything to deflect from being faced with his feelings and dismiss yours. Can he just accept you’re interested in him and not in the shadow of Mollymauk that’s left in him?

“You want a kiss? Fine. A kiss you’ll get.” You’re the one getting exasperated with his quick dismissal so you put your hand on the side of his neck. Give him a chance to pull away or stop you before you put your lips to his. The kiss deepens into a snog and you find yourself hoping Fjord hasn’t been keeping an eye on you or he’d be in for a show without any context. You’ll have a lot of explaining to do later….

Enough’s enough and you break the kiss paying close attention to Lucien who’s processing whatever’s running through his head. You just hope he’ll be able to put his own stubbornness aside, get over himself and admit to his feelings and yours because last you checked denial is much more of a problem than vulnerability ever will be.

“You need to start accepting people don’t automatically work the way you think they work. You don’t have to like the fact I actually like you nor do you have to like me in return but you cannot dismiss my feelings and opinions just because they don’t suit you.” You pat his cheek and while he’d consider it a belittling gesture, it’s fair game at this point. Maybe the game’s still being played after all and he was never in control of the game to begin with. That’s a bit of a damper in the grand scheme of it all.

It leaves Lucien to think. Since he’s already way over his head and too far into this that there’s no way back, maybe he’ll take his chances. No major changes. The goals remain the same but for now maybe he can enjoy a little company every so often if you’ll allow it… Maybe he can drop the cold exterior, get rid of the ‘divine purpose’ attitude and just let himself be for however long it lasts. At the end of they day he has little to lose and much more to gain.

“Fine. I recognise your interests in me as more than for what silvers of that fragment remain.” Lucien does not like admitting defeat and the expression on his face brings you so much satisfaction. Yes you might have feelings for the man but that doesn’t mean you can’t find joy in these kinds of interactions even if they are rooted in frustrations.

“And…” You push for him to continue. You can see him grit his teeth but he continues at your behest.

“And, accept them along my own. No matter how much I hate to admit it, I apologise for excusing my own behaviour and motives as means solely to manipulate you.” Lucien glares at you seeing your own satisfaction.

“Good boy.” You pat his cheek.

“Now since you’ve gotten all of this out of me you better share that blanket of yours because you’re not the only one freezing out here.”

“So the cold does bother him after all.” You grin and scoot over to wrap the blanket around the both of you. A bit of the rigidness remains, not ready to drop the cold and distant attitude just yet, if ever entirely, you know the ice is melting, even if just a little. More than you expected. More than you could have asked for. Now how the hell are you going to explain this to the others….

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #critical role #mighty nein #lucien x reader #mollymauk x reader

[fishyfletch]

Critical Role Characters and How I Think They'd Play SDV !!

• Jester Lavorre

- Spouse: Alex

- Mostly runs around collecting forageables

- LOVES interacting with NPCs!!

- She does not farm AT ALL. She plants seeds, yes, but forgets to water them.

- It takes her forever to make a character because she can't pick a hair style and clothes.

- She picked Alex because he's the most aesthetically pleasing to her.

- Picked the dog and named it after Nugget.

Beauregard Lionett

- Spouse: Originally gravitated towards Haley but ended up marrying Abi.

- Would convince you that she's been going to the mines and fighting monsters when in reality she just aggressively fishes the whole day.

- Ppl arounher would just see her angrily doing Something™ and just ??

- May or may not have broke the left click button and had to buy a new one.

- Thought Haley was really pretty but got pissed off when she actually got to her dialouge lmao.

- Noticed Abi was not-so-bad despite being Pierre's daughter.

- Has thought Robin and Caroline were bachelorettes at first and was pissed off they weren't.

Yasha Nydoorin

- Spouse: Penny

- Took forever to understabd the controls so she felt terrible when accidentally giving an NPC something they didn't like.

- "Beau, what's that sound mean?" "Why can't I break this?" Alot of those types of questions.

- May or may not have cried playing the game. Why? No one knows.

- Her farm has alot!!!! of flowers!!!!! alot!!!!

- She has a grey cat called Miso.

Nott the Brave

- Spouse: Married Sam accidentally.

- She didn't mean to get his hearts so high so she just went through with it and married him.

- Does way too much heckin chaotic things at first.

- Big panick in the mines, always has stairs with her.

- When she gets the option to have children she goess INSANE.

- MUST CLEAN. MUST PREPARE HOUSE. MUST MAKE MONEY.

- Looks at the town's trash every single day.

Caleb Widogast

- Spouse: Harvey

- Actually has the wiki open

- His main goal is to finish the community center

- Ends up passing out when he gets distracted

- Realizes that the local doctor was super husband material after a few passing outs

- Willingly goes to Harvey's clinic

- Emily reminded him of Jester so he debated on marrying her or Harvey

- His farm is actually goals

- Like this man's farm is practically from pinterest

- Got really excited when he found out about the wizards tower

- Frumpkin cat, obviously

Mollymauk Tealeaf

- Spouse: all of them !! he has the poly mod !!

- Collects ores and pretty stuff. Barely donates to the museum

- Hat mouse is his best friend!!

- His money is always 3 digits because of that.

- Really enjoys the festivals and would sometimes skip entire days to get to them

- Gives gifts to all his spouses!! Adores them all.

- He picked that one one light coloured funky dog, he named it Bread.

Caduceus Clay

- Spouse: None :)

- The only functional one.

- Focuses on farming more than anything else.

- Never forgets to give gifts to Linus, he thinks he's really wise.

- A bit confused at first and treated NPCs like actual people for majority of the time.

- Tried to make tea with the skeletons you find in artifact spots.

- His favourite NPCs are Caroline and Linus. He vibes with them.

Fjord Stone

- Spouse: Leah

- Man spends most of his time foraging and fishing on the beach.

- Doesn't really talk to other NPCs aside from Leah and Willy.

- Beach farm, beach farm, beach farm

I might add on this later on but for now here's this!!

#stardew valley #stardew valley headcanons #sdv #sdv headcanons #sdv hcs #critical role #cr headcanons #critical role headcanons #critical role hcs #jester lavorre #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #fjord stone #caduceus clay #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #nott the brave #veth brenatto

[e-one-seven]

(I hate being a literature student. Just know that literature students have a bad habit of over-analyzing stuff, and apparently D&D games are not exceptions.)

Normally I don't talk about ships. I think that everybody is free to ship whoever character they want with who they want and I am no one to judge them. Especially if the characters in question are from a live role playing game and one of the ships in question involves a couple controlled by a couple who is married IRL. But this one. Oh boy. Laura Bailey is an absolute beast and she deserves all the respect in the world if even a fraction of what I think it's happening/going to happen will effectively happen in game.

Fjord kissed Jester. He asked for her permission and he got it. It was beautiful. And I am genuinely freaking out because I knew that was going to happen and it's even worse than I imagined it. Why am I talking about it like it is something bad? Because it's possible that Jester is not ready to be in a relationship right now, and that Jester herself is not aware of it. Let's talk about it from the beginning.

Jester likes Fjord from the beginning of the campaign, we all know that. When Jester met Fjord for the first time, she was a sheltered girl who, in her head, just met the perfect man: a proud and strong sailor who wants to live an adventurous life just like the heroes of her novels, and she easily identified herself as the heroine the hero will inevitably fall in love with. They meet the rest of the Nein, live on their adventures and Jester keeps on acting like she is the Guinevere of her personal love story inside her head, while Fjord is blissfully unaware of what is happening inside the skull of his new friend.

Then Fjord meets Avantika, a mature woman who seems to share many traits and interests with him. Jester is clearly jealous, especially after that they sleep together to seal their alliance. That is also the moment when Jester starts to see Fjord's flaws and she seems to be willing to accept them, which is actually a point in favor for a possible relationship between them. But Fjord is still unaware of what the special attention of the blue tiefling actually means.

Then she meets a real married couple, and she starts to realize that romance is not always like she imagined it was. Nott/Veth and Yeza are married and have a child, and they are not as dependent to each other like the heroes of her novels: Nott does her own things and she is a strong independent woman and Yeza is pretty much the same, they are not allowed to be as intimate as they used to be because of "Nott's condition", but they still love and support each other through and through. And at this point, Jester starts to notice that there is a member of the Mighty Nein that seems to show her that unconditional love and support that Nott and Yeza radiate with every action: Caleb Widogast.

Caleb used to be a stinky wizard, a brash individual who joined the group just because he was too squishy to survive on his own. But ever since they are in Xhorhas, he cleaned himself, he is kinder with everyone and he wants to help her organize the Traveler Con even if the event has nothing to do with him directly. Jester is visibly touched by his newfound beauty and kindness. But he still loves Astrid. He called Jester with her name when they danced together in Hupperdook. And he seems to be interested in Essek Thyless too, so she is probably imagining it. The Mighty Nein travel, grow more powerful, and Fjord manages to set himself free from Uk'utoa's influence and becomes a Paladin of the Wildmother. He finally becomes more similar to the hero Jester imagined he was when he met him for the first time, but she seems to be only minimally bothered by his change. She needs time to think because she feels that something is changing inside her. Fjord might not be the right one after all. Caleb is always there for here with all his support, and she starts to want to be there for him.

Eventually, they stop the war, they defeat a fire god and Caleb sets up wonderful magic and illusions so that the Traveler Con is a success. But then, during the last night of the gathering, something happens and Sehanine, the Moonweaver herself is angry. She is taking Artagan away, and Jester is willing to follow him in the Feywild and share his punishment... but Fjord grabs her and begs her not to go. She has still the Mighty Nein, she has still him. For the first time Fjord is being explicit about his feelings for her. Luckily everything goes well and the Mighty Nein are free to come back to Wildemount... Where she finds out about Caleb's past and his intent to save his friend Eadwulf and his former lover Astrid from Trent Ikithon. They go dance again, Caleb pushes her in Fjord's arms, and the half-orc gives her a present. There is definitely something. But there is Caleb too, but he is too busy trying to deal with his demons to pay attention to her.

Jester meets Astrid and she antagonizes her. She is jealous, she thinks that Astrid is Caleb's ideal woman and she realizes they are not alike at all. She is a talented and ambitious wizard, while she is just Jester, the cleric of an Archfey. Astrid is just like Essek, and Caleb is attracted by Essek. Jester understands if Caleb doesn't like her after all: why should he be interested into a childish cleric whose power is not even her own? They are just very good friends. That's all. He should be back with Astrid and she will support him if that will happen once that she will be free from Trent Ikithon's influence. But Caleb is still so kind, and loving, and supportive... she is really confused about it. But he is kind and loving with all of his friends, so in the end it might not be important.

And then, there is Eiselcross with its weird ancient magic. A magic as dangerous as the one they found in the Happy Fun Ball, which contained a Blue Dragon and a trap that managed to kill Nott without them being able to prevent it. Everything is dangerous and the Mighty Nein realize as the time passes by that not everyone of them could get out of there alive, especially given what and who they are trying to stop. And Jester herself falls into a trap: she is given a vision that confirms to the Mighty Nein that what they feared is true, that the Tomb Takers' objective is to bring an eldritch floating city scary enough to cause a Morkoth into voluntary exile back to Exandria, where it intends to absorb its inhabitants into its hive mind. The price to pay for the vision are 5 years of her life. "Growing old" is different than "growing up", and it happens to her in a matter of seconds. Jester is five years closer to death now, and it is possible that she is lucky they are just five. The minor changes in her appearance are a reminder of what it could have happened if she wasn't lucky, and she has no idea about what else changed about herself and what will change in her personal life and relationships because of that accident. All she knows right now is that these might be her last days alive and she is afraid she might be missing something before her untimely death.

(And she would not be silly to think about it. After all, who they are facing is reminding all of the Mighty Nein that even if they are becoming powerful they are still mortal beings.)

And when she is in the middle of a mild existential crisis and confusion reigns inside her head, Fjord declares. And Jester, still willing to believe that she is her old self, the young woman who left Nicodronas and miraculously met the man of her dreams that will lead her to live an exciting life full of love and adventures, accepts to kiss him. It is very likely that she was not thinking about anything in that moment, but one thing: "If I say yes to Fjord it means that I am still me, right? It is happening because it was supposed to happen from the beginning, because we were supposed to be together."

There is just one little problem: Jester is ignoring the fact that she has changed from the person she used to be back then, and it did not happen because a group of stone statues magically aged her up. There is still something for Fjord, she will never forget him as he is and he will always be her first love. But she has some feelings for Caleb too, and even if she is "a good liar" they might be too strong for her to simply ignoring them. After all, Caleb "I was trained to lie and kill for the Empire" Widogast did an excellent job when he was trying to hide them. There are some clues here and there that hint that Jester might love Caleb as much as he loves her and that she wants him to be happy, even with other people... just like he wants it for her. Add the trauma she is just starting to deal with, and there is almost no way that her current relationship with Fjord is going to evolve into something healthy and angst free right now. This if that kiss was the effective beginning of a serious relationship, and not the promise of a future relationship between them if she will be still available. 

But these are the vibes that the beginning of a relationship between them is giving to me right now, and nothing will be confirmed until Laura Bailey will show up to Talks Machina to talk about it. I am also curious about how she will react when she will see Essek again: when the stakes were not high she used to tease him to be with Caleb... but now she has met Astrid, she might have feelings for him and being in a relationship with another person, and Caleb states that he doesn't trust him. I guess that if she still does, it will be mostly an attempt to show to everyone that nothing changed for her and that she is fine (and that would be a huge step back into her character development, but it was her defense mechanism until the Rumblecusp arc and she is dealing with a lot of serious stuff all together right now).

I'm not saying that the ship is going to die: I'm saying that because of the circumstances behind how it was made official and the relationship between all the character involved, I would say that it is very likely that it will lead to some cute moments, but that it eventually won't last. This is especially true if it will confirmed that Jester has feelings for Caleb too, as feelings for another person are not easy to get rid off, and I am fully expecting Jester to angst and talk to someone about them at some point. She needs to achieve true clarity and accept that she is going to break someone's heart in order to be in a healthy, happy relationship. Because, let's face it, we all imagined Jester would have been much happier if she'd ever entered into a relationship, shouting about it out loud so that everyone know. There is something weird here. So, or either the kiss is a promise, or Jester's heart is not fully into it and this means trouble.

But yes, Laura Bailey promised us that she would have romanced Travis's character and she is doing it. And whatever it will be the final result, she is still a legend for having achieved the impossible once more.

PS: Obviously this post in the end means nothing, as no one owns and knows the full truth behind the intent of these characters but the actors who control them. I just wanted to give my two cents about the question. It's more likely that this development will prevent Jester to suffer from a mental breakdown in Eiselcross instead of causing her to suffer from one, but I tend to over-analyze stuff. Please forgive me for this.

PS2:  As a final note, it would have been the same even if Caleb would have been in Fjord's place, if not even worse: I wrote a post about Caleb in Eiselcross too, and between him and Jester I have no idea of who is the most messed up at the moment. Poor children...

#critical role #character analysis #jester lavorre #fjord #caleb widogast #fjorester #widojest #angst everywhere #why did i even write this #i just want them to be happy #cr meta