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drizztdohurtin · 26 days

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Tangled Fates

Rolan x unnamed!Tav

find full fic details here

Chapter 1

Summary: Tav arrives at the Druid Grove, meets Zevlor, Rolan, Cal and Lia, and spends the following tenday getting to know her companions as they ready themselves to confront the goblin camp.

Rating: none Warnings: none Word count: 2,502

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The grove was filled with tieflings who she learned were refugees from the city Elturel - somewhere Tav had visited before The Descent - about 200 miles east of Baldur’s Gate along River Chionthar. After the whole debacle of Elturel falling to the hells and back, the people of the city forced the tiefling residents out, believing the entire thing was their fault.

The man who led the tiefling refugees, Zevlor, had filled in Tav and her companions, Karlach, Lae’zel, and Gale, after they helped save the grove from an attack by some goblins. He told them the leader of the grove, Kagha, was in the process of forcing the refugees out, claiming it was for the best for those who resided in the grove. She was already in the process of sealing it off from the rest of the world.

At the request of Zevlor, who just wanted more time to prepare his people for the road to Baldur’s Gate, Tav was currently on her way to speak with Kagha. Tav didn’t have a habit of helping every person in need that she came across, but this time was a little different. She felt for the tieflings - being exiled from safety twice now, and at no fault of their own. Presently, she stood at the table of a merchant, trading everything she had picked up since waking up on the beach for gold and supplies.

She thanked the trader quickly before continuing on her way to Kagha where Lae’zel and Karlach had already gone, taking an inventory of her supplies as she walked. She thought for a second about her day, realizing how tired she was, and that she wasn’t even in shock. She chuckled to herself quietly, shaking her head; she was more desensitized to bad shit happening to her than she thought. And, Gods, does her head hurt. The only good thing to happen so far was getting to clock some guy in the jaw - knocking him out cold - for being a douchebag to Zevlor.

Her thoughts were disrupted upon hearing a couple of tieflings arguing (loudly) over something. With Gale in tow, she observed the group of three as she passed them, fiddling with the new ring she just traded a few rusty daggers for. A woman and two men were arguing about whether to stay or leave, or something or other. Tav gathered that the three were siblings, the woman was called Lia and one of the men was called Rolan. The latter caught her eye as he was wearing a robe and metal chestpiece commonly donned by sorcerers. Lia had been waving her hands around, trying to get Rolan to see her side, as he stood there with perfect posture and his hands tense at his sides, and the other man tried his best to mediate their squabbling.

Tav had just made it past them when the girl called out to her, “Miss!” She didn’t want to get pulled into whatever they had been arguing about, but she didn’t want to be an ass either. She sighed a little, turning to get a better look at the group.

“You were there fighting the goblins, you saw them fight,” Lia said to her. “You know our people can’t survive another attack like that, especially if they come back in larger numbers. The people here need everyone they can get, right?” She was desperate, speaking not just to Tav but also to Rolan.

Before Tav could reply, Rolan dismissed the notion, “I’ll not gamble our lives, or futures, on people who are as good as dead,” he scoffed. “We must leave for Baldur’s Gate at once.”

“What’s the point in blades and spells if we don’t bloody use them? We should stay! These people aren’t fighters. We can help!”

At this point, the other man gave up trying to calm them, and Lia looked to Tav for help. It took her a second to realize she wanted her to say something.

Tav shrugged. “If your people aren’t fighters… I suppose there’s more safety in numbers. A single blade could make a difference.”

Looking back to Rolan, Lia was visibly relieved, “Just like I was saying. I don’t want all these lives on my conscience. We need to stay.”

“Zurgan... Fine, we’ll stay. If we survive, it’ll make for a good story I suppose.” Rolan looked at Tav, narrowing his eyes. She looked back at him, observing him and the way he held himself. She wasn’t used to people who were so uptight.

Lia thanked Rolan and threw Tav a grateful glance as she began to walk away, to which Tav returned with a slight nod. Their brother approached with a relieved smile, “I’m Cal by the way.”

She nodded again, “Tav.”

Cal then spoke in a hush, “Lia and Rolan would never admit it, but they’d take an arrow for the other. Also stab each other, not sure what’ll come first. Thank you for helping.”

With that, he turned back to Rolan as he joined Lia, “Don’t be grumpy, we’ll get to the city soon.”

“I’m not grumpy!” Rolan insisted, very obviously grumpy.

Tav began to leave, peering back down at the ring still in her hand when Rolan began again. “We should’ve left by now. Staying is a mistake.” While he indeed seemed grumpy, Tav could see a flicker in his eyes, a glint of fear.

She had seen it on all types of faces, she could detect it under 100 layers of other emotions, and other times it was so visible she’d wonder if that person has ever once known any other emotion. She took him in for a moment; his expressions, his posture, the way his eyes looked into hers, and the emotions they held. He was harder to read than the average person she’d come across, but, indeed, beneath hundreds of layers she could see fear. But she had things to do, so she didn’t care to argue with him, even if he seemed like he was being selfish. But who was she to judge?

“We will end up fodder for some goblin’s blade all because Lia insists on helping every wounded foal we see! Our best chance to make it to Baldur’s Gate is on our own, this place is lost,” he insisted.

Tav’s face was stern as she breathed deeply through her nose, arms crossed over her chest. “There’s every chance you’ll die on the road,” she finally said, blunt as ever.

“Please, I can handle myself, it’s others that are the issue. My apprenticeship with Lorroakan begins shortly and I cannot be late.”

“Go alone then. You said it yourself, you’re in a hurry and you can handle yourself,” she quipped.

He didn’t seem to like that, but Gale chose to pipe up before Rolan could respond - asking about the “Lorroakan” guy Rolan mentioned. Tav tuned it out, opting to take in her surroundings and give Rolan a closer look in the meantime.

He was maybe a little pompous, but he wasn’t hard on the eyes at all. He had slightly lighter red skin than his siblings, and freckles that Tav had never seen on a tiefling. He was quite tall with broad shoulders, and kept his warm brown hair half up in a small bun at the back of his head. It was the least of her concerns right now, but she’d admit he was handsome.

Though not entirely present in the conversation, Tav gathered that Master Lorroakan was a famed wizard in Baldur’s Gate who Rolan thinks highly of despite the rumors about him that, apparently, had reached all the way to Waterdeep - 550 miles north of Baldur’s Gate where Gale had lived.

“Regardless, going on my own is tempting, indeed… but I could never leave Lia behind. If only she understood the longer we wait the longer the horrors of the wild imperil us.” Rolan said, speaking to Tav again.

She blinked, this conversation wasn’t worth the time, and yet she continued with it, “I spoke to someone at the entrance of the grove who said Baldur’s Gate’s about a tenday’s walk. It’s best to stay with the group, for everyone’s safety. The ‘horrors of the wild’ will imperil you more if you’re on your own, anyway.”

Rolan took a breath, looking up in defeat. He knew she was right, but that didn’t make him any happier about the situation, so he didn’t say anything.

“We were just off to speak to Kagha anyways… I’m going to figure something out. Just worry about your family. Let my companions and I take care of the rest,” Tav assured him. Really, he was one person, what more could he do than that?

He barked out a laugh, “Ha! You against a horde of goblins? And I even heard there were gnolls north of here! I don’t see how it does anyone any good to go get yourself killed but go ahead if that’s what you want.” He sneered, still bitter from the circumstances.

Tav rolled her tongue over her teeth, with a quick flare of the nostrils she was shrugging his comment off. She met his gaze with sharp eyes, “Ah, don't you worry about me.”

By the time they returned to camp that first night, Tav was going on probably 40 hours without proper sleep, unless you consider being knocked out on the mind flayer ship, then being knocked out again on the beach to be “proper sleep”. She had spoken to Kagha, reported back to Zevlor, and gone scavenging around the grove and a mile radius outside of it for more supplies, picking up three more companions along the way before she felt like her body would give out at any moment. It was almost embarrassing.

The goal was to save the leader of the grove, a druid named Halsin, from the goblin camp. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but it’s what she does. Killing goblins and locating missing persons was similar enough to the work contracts she took before all this. She was used to being hired to kill criminals and rescue innocents, and a sprinkle of bounty-hunting, so dealing with an entire village of goblins shouldn’t be too hard. She figured at least she’d be good in any fights that came about.

Tav didn’t mind spending time with her companions around the fire before going to bed, though she was just trying not to fall asleep the whole time. It had been an extraordinarily long time since she had any sort of companionship with anyone, let alone with six people. She eventually made her way back to her tent, not even needing to get cozy before passing out for the night.

The build-up to rescuing the druid was tedious, and they did not have as much time as they desired to prepare for it. Though Tav appeared unmoved to her companions, the revelation of this “true soul” bullshit, the cult of the Absolute, and the realization that they were unlikely to find a healer anytime soon came like an ice knife through the chest. The group often reported their progress to Zevlor, sometimes discussing with a few refugees at the grove to see if anyone could help or offer insight.

Tav had grown to like the three tiefling siblings she’d met. She enjoyed the way they picked on each other, particularly after Rolan said something arrogant - she’d try to keep a straight face even if it was funny. She didn’t join in, she was content sitting back and watching; only speaking up when she was asked to. She’d check in on the three almost every time they visited the grove for supplies. Though not considering them to be her friends at first, she wanted to make sure they were alright. But after a tenday, she found herself being slightly disappointed on the days they didn’t stop at the grove before going back to camp.

One could be forgiven for thinking she forgot how to interact with people. She wasn’t shy, nor was she secretive; in fact, she was a fairly open book when asked to be, though solemnly offering more information than what was requested. Tav hadn’t thought much about the way she was until one night at camp when everyone was sharing about their lives before being taken aboard the mind flayer ship. Her companions had decently warmed up to each other by that point and started discussing more personal things around the campfire during dinner every night.

She was listening to the stories of those around her, somewhat lost in thought as her eyes bore into the fire, almost staring through it, when Wyll asked, “Well, what about you, Tav?” She shrugged, keeping her gaze where it was. “I just took work where I could get it. If it paid well enough, anyways…” she paused, breaking her thousand-yard stare. “It took me all over the place, I spent most of my time in conditions like this,” she gestured to the wooded area around them.

Looking back down at her bread and soup, gathering another bite, she hadn’t looked at her companions to see if her answer was satisfactory. If they wanted to know more, they’d ask, right? It was quiet for just a second as she took a bite, her eyes remaining down at her food.

“You have such a way with words, Tav,” Astarion mocked lightheartedly. She breathed out through her nose with a small smile, mouth still full of food. “Did you travel with anyone?” Shadowheart inquired, perhaps because Tav never said anything earlier when they were talking about whether anyone had lovers waiting for them at home. Tav just shook her head with a small “no”, glancing at Shadowheart before taking another bite of her food.

Since she first woke up on that beach, her fears had been about how close she was to death and, worse, how she could go through an excruciating transformation at any moment - doomed to be a mind flayer thrall for the rest of her days. One day while scouting at the goblin camp while pretending to be a true soul, she realized how dangerous it would be if their façade slipped before they were prepared.

These fears had been decently subdued after meeting Withers and her dream guardian yesterday. If she was using the innate threat of death or ceremorphosis as an excuse to keep her guard up, there were now two perfect counterarguments: one being a friendly Undead with the ability to resurrect and the other being a woman who came to her in the night promising to protect her from the death-grip of the Absolute. With their help, she didn’t have to worry about her or her companions permanently dying or going into ceremorphosis. She was much safer than any of them had originally thought. As she lay in her tent that night, she thought maybe the only real reason her guard was up was because she didn’t remember how to lower it.

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A/N: I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS!!! I will be posting more updates about when the next chapters are coming soon <3 As always, your comments and reblogs are so appreciated (and your tags are always enjoyed)!

Beta read by @osalotte and @rax-writes, thank you so much, pookies! <3

#rolan fic update #baby boy #my writing #my fics #rolan #rolan x tav #bg3 #fanfic #brainrot #baldurs gate 3 #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #writing #smut #fluff #x tav #holy rolan empire #rolan bg3

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unreadpoppy · 8 months

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song as old as rhyme - chapter 9

{Beauty and the Beast AU - Raphael x OC (Elize)}

chapter 8

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Taglist: @littlemoondarling @desenhosdebolso @shyminnie07

A/N: I don't know how I feel about this chapter. Maybe it could have been better but this was the best i could come up with. Also, I may be rushing some things but it's so that we get to some important plot points faster. I hope you guys enjoy it.

Haarlep had essentially dragged Elize around the House of Hope, most of the places she had seen before, but hearing them talk about each room did bring her some comfort.

Eventually, they found themselves sitting across from one another in a random room, asking questions about each other. There was a bottle of wine between, which had been mostly consumed by the incubus.

“So, you’re his personal incubus?” Elize asked. Haarlep nodded. “What does that mean?” She had a vague idea that these creatures needed sex to survive but she’d never imagine that Raphael would house one in his home.

Haarlep chuckled. “It means that I do all the work while Raphael lays on his back and barks orders.”

“And why do you look like him?”

“Because Raphael only fucks Raphael, dear.”

“Oh.” Was all Elize could think to reply. “And how did you get here? Why did you start working for him?”

“Curious thing, aren’t you?” He raised an eyebrow, taking a swing from the bottle. Up until that point, he had been the one doing most of the questioning. “I was sent here by his dear father, Mephistopheles, to distract the naughy boy.” He paused. “Although, when that misadventurer, Tav, showed up with their tadpole problem, I had a hard time in doing my job.”

Before Elize could ask further, Haarlep stopped her. “But enough about me. Did you know” Haarlep began the question “that you talk in your sleep?”

“What!?” Elize exclaimed. “I do not talk in my sleep.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I do not.” She sipped from the glass.

“I saw you doing it.” Haarlep smirked. “You were mumbling something about ‘mommy’ and ‘sunsets’ and ‘nightmares’.” They said each word in a mocking tone.

Elize’s lips formed a thin line and she used the wall behind her to help her up, visibly upset by that. “I think I should get to work.”

“Oh, come on, just when things started to get good?” Haarlep said, also standing up.

Before they could continue arguing, a portal opened and through it, walked out a dwarf woman and a tiefling girl.

“Korilla, Mol!” Haarlep addressed the new arrivals. ”What brings you here?”

“The master is going to receive an important guest today.” The dwarf replied. “He ordered the house to be clean. Everything has to be in order and everyone is to be on their best behavior.” She then noticed Elize behind Haarlep. “You must be the new girl. I’m Korilla Hearthflame.” She said, with a slight bow. ‘And this is Mol.” The dwarf pointed towards the child.

“I’m Elize.” Was all she replied.

“Now that everyone’s acquainted, it’s time to get to work.” Haarlep said and so, for hours, the four of them made sure that the House of Hope was in good condition. Elize was glad to no longer be the only one holding the broom.

When the master of the house arrived, everyone felt it. It was as if the air stopped to greet him.

Elize and Korilla had been tasked with waiting the table for Raphael and his guest. Both women would take turns serving the meals. Whenever it was Elize’s turn to go in, she would try to do everything as quickly as possible, avoiding eye contact.

The guest was an elven man, with long blonde hair. Elize wondered what could he have to offer to be of such importance for the devil, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Now, she was waiting for the dwarf to return to the kitchen.

There was a knock on the door and Elize opened it, allowing Korilla to walk out. Suddenly, she smelled something familiar.

“Is this smell coming from that?” She asked, pointing towards the opened wine bottle the dwarf was holding.

“Yes.” Korilla replied. “It was the guest who brought it and made a point that it was served tonight.”

“May I?” Elize opened up her hand and the bottle was placed in it. She brought the wine close to her nose and took a sniff. Besides the smell of wine, she noticed a hint of berries and a subtle, woodsy and earthy scent. It was when she smelled something very sweet, that she realized.

A memory appeared in Elize’s mind eye. She remembered her mother teaching her about different kinds of poisonous plants and how to spot them.

She also remembered her mother laying on the floor, a drink with that smell rolling on the ground.

Elize came back to her senses. “Korilla, did you serve this to them?” She asked in a worried tone.

“Yes, why do you-” Before she could finish, Elize was running towards the room where the dinner was served.

Elize ran, ignoring Korilla’s shouts, and bursted through the doors of the room.

Raphael, who looked human, put his chalice down and got up, furious. Before he started shouting, Elize interrupted him.

“He’s trying to poison you!” She screamed.

“What?” Raphael replied but before he could go further, his nose began to bleed, and he almost fell on the table, coughing, a hand on his heart. He looked deadly at his guest. Before the man could try to run away, the devil snapped his fingers and the elf disintegrated.

The spell proved itself to use too much of his remaining strength, as immediately afterwards, Raphael fell backwards. Elize ran towards the fireplace and grabbed the poker, using it to pull some coal out. At the same time, Korilla, Haarlep and Mol had arrived.

Elize began to bark orders. “Someone get me water, a plate and paper! Quickly!” They all sprung into action. The girl took the hot pieces of coal in her hands and knelt besides Raphael. His eyes had glossed over.

Soon, Haarlep and Mol appeared beside her with the plate and the water. She poured the water on the plate and began to mix it with the charcoal. Finally, Korilla arrived with the paper. Elize rolled up the paper, making it into a funnel and told the incubus to hold it to the devil’s mouth.

She placed Raphael’s head on her lap, and while Haarlep held the makeshift funnel, Elize poured the coal water into the funnel. She poured a good portion of it and stopped, to see if Raphael reacted.

Nothing, besides some spasms. She continued pouring. Eventually, the plate was empty and Raphael looked as good as dead.

“Oh gods, please…” Elize whispered. They all looked defeated until the devil lurched forwards and vomited the coal out.

He spent a good moment like that until he finally stopped, and just laid on his side, breathing heavily.

Looking relieved, Elize turned to Haarlep. “Take him to his room.” She said. “We will clean this mess in the meantime.” They nodded and carried Raphael out of the room. Now that they knew the master would live, the situation dawned on Elize, and she began to shake slightly.

After the devil and the incubus left the room, Mol got up and turned towards Elize. “How did you know to do that?!” The young girl asked.

“My mother, she… she taught me some things.” Was all Elize replied. She got up on shaky knees and without another word, began to clean the table.

#raphael x oc #raphael x elize #not tav oc #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #beauty and the beast AU #my writing #haarlep bg3 #haarlep #mol bg3 #korilla bg3

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vehadelecut · 4 months

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This is love, boy

It was another evening of their hike to God knows where, when Tavel sat down next to Shaodan with a sly face.

- Well, boy, you got caught, right?

The fiery Karlach joined their company today and the half-elf could not help but notice the looks the sorcerer was giving her. To be honest, he was impressed himself, but the horned one was clearly smitten.

- What are you talking about? - The tiefling answered with a sincerely uncomprehending face, twitching the tip of his tail.

- Come on, you still look at how she dances, moving around the camp, - Tavel smiled.

He spoke almost in a whisper so that his friend’s interest would not overhear their conversation. And the rest shouldn’t even eavesdrop by accident.

- No, have you seen her? - Shao hissed, leaning a little closer to the elf. - Not a woman - FIRE!

- And literally,- the dark one laughed, - but I understand you. Just when we go to the paladins, be careful, otherwise you want to impress, prove yourself, and you’ll end up in the front row.

- Well, I want to protect her, and not die at her feet, so... I’ll try, - Shaodan glanced at the girl briefly and made a movement with his tail again. - I didn’t think I’d ever react to someone... like that. I don’t know her at all, she’s a warrior from the underworld, and I... For some reason I believe her. It’s not just “we need allies, and then we’ll look after each other so that there are no betrayals.” I... believe her.

- Me too, - said Tavel thoughtfully, - it seems that this is the case when someone really has an open soul, and does not intentionally create such an image for themselves. Moreover, you saw her memories and emotions, and I have no doubt in your retelling.

- What I saw and felt... I want to wrap her in a blanket and give her a cup of hot tea, assuring her that everything will be fine, - the tiefling smiled, scratching his wrist (and how is he not afraid of scratching with such claws?). - But she obviously doesn’t need it. Maybe. At least we still don’t have a fire-resistant blanket to test.

- The only option left is tea, - nodded halfelf, - and although you know, we have so much wine accumulated in our supplies, you can easily throw some spices in there, and she will already make herself some mulled wine, it’s in some ways even cozier than tea.

The ranger laughed, however, this little joke was not evil. Their company was so diverse that it was simply impossible not to play up the characteristics of each.

- I’m not sure if she can drink alcohol, - Shao secretly looked at Karlach again, and didn’t notice how he smiled. - Although people like her are usually very supportive of it. You know, I love the way she laughs. Enjoys every minute of freedom. She knows that this freedom is still fragile, that she can still be returned to the front line, forced to kill against her will. But she's not worried... She tries to seize every moment without control, to feel everything she has time for.

Tavel sighed. It seems that they should all take an example from Karlach, because who knows when tentacles will start sprouting from their faces. What kind of freedom is there then...

- So go and ask if she can have some wine, why are you seated, - he pushed the tiefling, - maybe she knows. Brighten up the lady's evening!

- I... I don’t know, - the guy frowned. - I'm afraid to “drive the horses” too quickly and ruin everything.

- As you yourself said, she enjoys every minute of her precarious freedom, - the elf shook his head, - and would rather enjoy normal communication and a tasty drink. Just don't act like a pushy idiot, that's all, although you won't be anyway.

- Not sure. I look at her and... I want to do stupid things! Like a boy, by God, i’m funny myself, - the tiefling scratched his wrist again, shaking his head.

- Shall I go with you? - The ranger squinted cheerfully. - Then it wouldn’t even be so suspicious if you came yourself!

- Yes, lets do it! - Sheo looked at the dark one with gratitude. - You’ll be stepping on my tail if the smile disappears from her face because of my stupidity.

- Go ahead, - Tavel clapped him on the shoulder, rising to his feet.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #karlach #bg3 karlach #bg3 text post #bg3 tav #bg3_Life between the lines #Shaodan #Tavel

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itstheelvenjedi · 6 months

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~couple questions~ for when you need an excuse to talk about your characters/ship 😽

8, 10, 16, 19, 22 and 25

Pick your fav pairings with your tav.

These are from the [~Couple Questions~: For When You need An Excuse to Talk About your Characters/Ship] list for anyone who either wants the list or wants to send some more!

Sorry this one took a while @csphire, I too got a little carried away and wrote probably way more than I was supposed to bwahahaha But I hope you enjoy! 😉 Obligatory disclaimer that there's some very horny/suggestive things in some of these answers, and also there WILL be spoilers for the plot of the game so like. Do not read if you're someone who hates spoilers and hasn't played through the whole game yet etc etc.

Also, I'm playing loosey-goosey with the lore in some respects because I'm here to have a good time, not a 100% canon compliant time. If you don't like that then just stay off my posts for the sake of both our sanities, I beg of you 🙏Rai is a polyamorous bisexual disaster and has a closed polycule with Karlach, Wyll and Dammon (tho I'm going on ~vibes~ and Wyll and Dammon aren't romantically/sexually involved bc I just didn't get that vibe from them while writing. It's a "ah yes, my girlfriends and their cool boyfriend : )" situation from both sides for the guys. They're purely platonic but they both love their girls a whole lot.) And before someone says it, no I don't care that it's not canon in-game. I don't need it to be canon in-game to do it anyway and I will die on this hill so don't try me /hj

commence the spoilers/horniness/etc under the cut! last chance to click away if you don't want to see that! XD (oh also trigger warning for mentions of child abuse/mistreatment, and...idk how best to word it other than discussions of being trained as a child soldier and references to past abuse and trauma. I've tried to blanket cover with trigger tags but ask if you'd like me to add any others I've missed!)

What do they find physically sexiest about each other? Going with Rai and Wyll for this one bc I think they have the best answers! ☺️

Rai: The ✨horns✨. Listen. I get why he's upset about them at first. I do. I totally get it. But come ooooonnnnn!! You CANNOT tell me those babies are anything except sexy as FUCK to tieflings. They're fucking beautiful horns, and I like to think Rai's a big factor in Wyll learning to "live with" his horns and maybe eventually like them. Just a little bit. She loves his horns and she'll use any excuse in the book to get her hands all over them. At first she was offering to help him with the horn care because he really had no clue & asked her & Karlach for help (tho Karlach wasn't touchable at the time so Rai had to step up for the physical "here like this" demonstration and that's prolly where it started lol) then it became a little intimacy habit between them, he doesn't need her help anymore but he's not going to say "no" if she asks/offers, ya know? :3 (honourable mention to the time drunk Wyll at the Grove party complained very loudly about having "bumps and stuff where they absolutely should not be" because Rai's only reaction to that was "OOH~ 👀💖" hahaha)

Wyll: This might sound like a weird one, but probably her tail? Rai's very tail-expressive, if she doesn't force it to keep still by wrapping it around her own leg (or someone else *wink wink*) then it's ALWAYS moving around or giving away her emotions in some way! It started out innocent enough in that his eyes were automatically drawn to it because it moves around so much. Even despite growing up in Baldur's Gate for some time and thus being around a fair few tieflings (from my limited understanding of the lore and stuff thus far, don't lynch me hardcore fans, I've never played tabletop 5E or the other baldur's gate games lmao) he'd never met a tiefling that moved their tail so much until he met Rai. But now he can't help but stare when he thinks she isn't looking (she totally knows and does things with it on purpose sometimes just to tease him because she knows Wyll is staring. Rai and Karlach have a running (playfully ofc) bet going about how long it's going to take Wyll to figure out that she knows he stares, he hasn't figured it out just yet 😉 lol) Honourable mention for her eyes bc he thinks they're very pretty uwu and not at all for smutty eye-contact reasons cough I mean what

What was their last big fight? What did they learn from it? You get a two-for-one with this one bc the two fights are interconnected (pov: one half of your polycule gets into a pretty major lovers' tiff and the other half gets dragged into it as collateral damage anyway. Sorry boys lol )

Both these fights are also the focal plot beats for a Hurt/Comfort oneshot, but alas, I can't get away with being too vague with this or the reasons why it was a fight kinda don't match up with the "what they learned from it" in the 2nd part of the question, so just act surprised a while from now when I post the fic, ok? XD(I've got all the dialogues and whatnot plotted out now, just gotta convert it to written prose 🫶 ) This one ran away with me and got REALLY long, sorry (or you're welcome, I guess? lol)

Rai and Karlach: disclaimer: I know in-game it all kinda happens in the same convo but for some ~creative liberty~ (because I love me some good ol' Hurt/Comfort angst) I chopped the convo in half with the first bit happening before the fight (bc something Karlach says in the heat of the moment kicks it all off) and the latter half of Karlach realizing she does still want to live and is upset that she's still dying happening a couple days later, after the spat is resolved.

Karlach technically starts it after she hits out when they've killed Gortash but I wanna be clear when I say both of them are at fault for it. This is not only their biggest fight but also a powder-keg type of situation where things built up over time till they both exploded at eachother for different reasons, see below :

Karlach's very stubborn about not wanting to go back to Avernus at first - even into Act 3. Wyll and Rai ofc offer to go with her, but initially that doesn't help Karlach feel better. The worst thing she could possibly think of is putting two of the people she loves more than anything through the nightmare that is the Blood War. So when Rai keeps bringing it up and keeps pushing her about it, she snaps. Listen, I love Karlach a LOT and I think she means well, genuinely, and would never hurt her partner's feelings on purpose/maliciously. But she's a Yeller when she gets mad - and with Rai that is a BAD kind of mad to be. We see this in-game especially if you have her with you when you run into Gortash, and her heartbreaking meltdown after you kill him.

Logically, Rai knows the autonomy of getting to make that decision - to choose her freedom even if it means that it comes with death as an unwanted consequence - is important to Karlach, and if she was thinking logically at the time she would of course want to respect that. In theory. In practise however, it turned out "just sit there and watch me die" was not a line Rai was willing to draw. She gets pushy about Dammon's suggestion that they should take Karlach back to Avernus to stabilize her Engine, even when Karlach insists she's made her mind up and doesn't want to talk about it anymore. Rai keeps bringing it up over and over again, and insisting that she and Wyll would both go with her if it'd make it less scary for her, and just refuses to take "no" for an answer etc etc

By the time they kill Gortash and Karlach has her little meltdown she's just had enough of Rai throwing the suggestion into what feels like damn-near every conversation they've had since Dammon broke the news to them in Last Light. So she loses her temper and starts shouting before Rai can say it again.

And the thing about Rai is…she's emotionally reactionary. Whatever energy you give her, she'll bounce right back to you, she can't help it and hasn't quite figured out how to stop doing it at that point in time (though she does get better at it in the future!). If you keep your voice calm and level, she might growl and snap her teeth or smack her tail on something a little bit but eventually she'll match your energy and chill out to just talk about things. But if you yell and scream and shout and call her names? She's gonna yell, scream, and call you names back.

And that's exactly what happens. It's a huge miscommunication/misunderstanding between both of them. Karlach makes assumptions about Rai's past despite the fact that unlike Wyll and Dammon, she'd never really asked Rai about her childhood in Elturel or anything like that (again, I'll stress that I don't think this was done with deliberate malice, but I feel like being a little bit selfish is a realistic character flaw for Karlach to have. She's been through a lot and she gets tunnel-visioned on solving her own problems and when you pair that with Rai's brand of "too busy trying to fix everybody else to fix myself" trauma response and it's just an unfortunate combination. Rai never brought her own trauma up, and Karlach never thought to ask) So as a result, she thinks Rai "got lucky" not being in Elturel when it fell and that as a result, Rai is naïve and doesn't know "how bad" Avernus really was. Meanwhile, while she's certainly not as well-acquainted with it as Karlach and Dammon, Rai's not as ignorant as Karlach thinks. Her Mother Superior was a necromancy wizard, and one of Zariel's goons. The temple where Rai was "taken in" and raised was really just a front for training up either spellcasters or sword-fighters (depending on an individual's aptitude and uhh, the way they figured out where to funnel them was to use them as magical target practise until they either threw a spell back at their "tutors" or the staff agreed that it had been long enough and "they're too slow/useless at magic so idk just give them a sword I guess", basically - most of Rai's scars come from the early years where she was used as every other "student"'s magical punching bag, the rest are from Avarice's rituals, except for the one on the end of her tail which she got when Elturel came back and Rai didn't know the tieflings had been exiled so went back to try and look for Dammon, Rolan, Cal and Lia and ended up being attacked and driven off instead) to be ultimately sent to Avernus for Zariel to toss into the Blood War. She's been the unwilling participant in far too many necromancy rituals and while I haven't quite hammered out the full details of this yet, they were definitely not nice and she's definitely ended up looking some brand of devil or other in the eye before, during said rituals. I'm very much going for the angle of if Rai hadn't been assumed dead and left where she'd run off into the woods and she HAD been in Elturel when it went down? She'd have been just as fucked as Karlach was with Gortash. Straight to the Blood War with her, she would've been Infernal Engine prototype 2.0 and she and Karlach would've met fighting in the Blood War. Karlach doesn't know any of this, and thus makes a flippant off-hand comment that rubs the salt right into the open wound that is Rai's survivor's guilt without fully realising she's done it. Instead of staying to talk it out, Rai gets even angrier and storms off despite poor Wyll's best attempts to try and get between them and calm them down.

Dammon and Karlach: After Rai storms off, she finds herself going straight to Forge of the Nine. It's not a surprise really. She's known Dammon the longest and because Rai already felt bad that Wyll was in-between her and Karlach during their fight (they were having a screaming match in the middle of camp, it wasn't exactly quiet, or pretty D: ) she didn't want to make it worse for him by forcing him to pick a side, so Rai made the choice for Wyll and went to Dammon. Rai's so upset at first that Dammon's terrified Karlach's engine has exploded and Rai's here to tell him she's dead. When he finally calms her down enough for Rai to tell him what actually happened, he…doesn't feel that much better. He's too worried about Rai to go marching back to camp and confront Karlach himself, especially when she asks him "can I stay here tonight? I don't want to go back just yet". But he does stew (I like to think Dammon isn't one to get angry often. And even when he does he's not loud and shouty about it. It's more a broody, quiet, "give you the silent treatment" type of thing)

Karlach's the one, after she's calmed down, who ends up checking Dammon's place when the rest of the party split up the next morning to go looking for Rai after they realize she's still gone. Rai sleeps through Karlach's knocking (she had a hard night, did a lot of yelling/screaming and crying, ya girl passed tf out once Dammon wrangled her into a bath & then bed to sleep it off ;-; ) but Dammon doesn't. He tries to be patient with Karlach but when she starts posturing and growling and snapping at him, Dammon loses his temper right back. Again, he's not a Scream And Shout kind of angry but he is a "Do not raise your fucking voice at me!" kind of angry. It's a side of him that Karlach hasn't seen before and it stuns her so much that it shuts her right up, but Dammon keeps going. He ends up reading Karlach a bit of a riot act about how much, exactly, she'd hurt Rai's feelings because Rai was probably never going to admit it to Karlach herself and it gives Karlach some serious cause for self-reflection. Dammon and Karlach's fight only gets broken up when their back-and-forth finally gets through Rai's Sleepiness and she wakes up and stumbles down the stairs to find them mid-argument. Karlach feels so guilty when she locks eyes with Rai over Dammon's shoulder that she apologises on the spot, which leads to Rai apologising too and they work it out with a little bit of mutual encouragement from Dammon <3

As for what they learned from it: Rai defo gets the longest list but I'll do all 3 of them again bc why the hell not lol

Rai definitely learns to not let her emotions make her careless/less aware of her partners' feelings. As an orphan who was treated more like a tool/weapon by the main parental figure in her life (part of the reason, like Astarion and Karlach, that Astarion and Rai are besties. Cazador treated Astarion like a possession, Avarice raised Rai as a weapon and they're kindred spirits of sorts as a result despite Astarion complaining about Rai being "too nice" XD) for most of her formative years, Rai's emotional maturity very much comes from her stumbling face-first into the lessons/epiphanies herself lol

So she learns to be a bit less "keep my shit to myself but expect everyone to let me deal with their shit" and take up a bit more space/be a bit more communicative about her own trauma. "I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you" and "Avernus fucking sucks and they're all haunted by it in some way or another" are the two overarching themes for Rai and her polycule 💖

She also learns to be a bit less impulsive. She ran off because she didn't want to force Wyll to "pick a side", but ended up doing exactly that to BOTH the boys, because she ran off first without thinking it through logically.

Karlach has a little "oh, shit" moment when Dammon sets her straight and she realizes that she never actually asked Rai anything about her time in Elturel or what it was like for her/why she danced around the subject. She just…made assumptions and didn't fact check or think that maybe her assumptions could've been wrong.

For my "version" of the story the snowball effect from this fight culminates in Karlach ultimately deciding that she doesn't want to die. She wants to LIVE. So when they get to the dock at the very end and Rai and Wyll tell her "we won't make the decision for you, but whatever you choose, we're with you". And she chooses Avernus in the end, because even though she's fucking terrified, the fact that after everything they've all been through with something from Avernus dogging their every effort to get away from it, both Rai and Wyll are still willing to go back too. For her. And if they can do it for her, then she can do it for them, and maybe buy Dammon enough time to figure out how to fix her heart for good. (I'm not crying you're crying /lh)

And she also learns that while she has a right to make her own decisions, she cannot presume to make those same decisions for anyone else in the polycule just because she thinks she's protecting them by doing it. She can make those decisions for herself, but she has to let them make theirs sometimes too, even if they're not the decision Karlach wanted them to make.

(honourable/slightly joke-y mention: "Don't piss off Dammon. He's scarier than any Raging barbarian when he's angry" lol)

Bonus Dammon, bc I love him and he's kinda a package deal with Rai /jk. Who gets to wrestle a little bit with guilt (it was his suggestion that snowballed into making his girls fight, after all ;-; ), the guilt from this fight is the straw that broke the camel's back in a biiiiiig pile of guilt he's been carrying around since Rai "disappeared" and he just believed Avarice when she said she was dead and never thought to try looking for her etc. He has to learn to make peace with it, before it starts eating him alive, sort of deal. ;3; Also feel like he gets a bit more comfortable with making his voice heard despite his general introverted nature. If he hadn't been a bit firmer with Karlach she might not have stayed quiet long enough to listen and the spat might've been a lot more drawn out than it ended up being so he gets a gold star for that hahaha

How do they react when the other is upset? How do they try to help?

Sorta-kinda talked about this one in question 10 with Rai and Dammon and Rai and Wyll so I'll do Rai and Karlach for this one! :3

I'd say it depends? Unlike Dammon who just gets angry but not necessarily violent, Rai and Karlach both have a tendency to get aggresisve/violent when the other one is hurt/upset. If its a specific person whose made them upset (and you know. it's not someone they already know/just a misunderstanding between friends) they will start threatening and even actually hurt the person responsible if they can get their hands on them. Be careful with upsetting the other one because you will have a homicidal tiefling on your ass and when she catches you she will rip you in half. Trust me on that one. If Wyll and/or Dammon can't talk her down.

When Raphael starts bothering Rai during the course of the game plot, Karlach has absolutely threatened to rip his face off if he dares lay a finger on Rai. This may or may not become foreshadowing, haven't written/planned anything that far ahead just yet so we'll see when/if I get there hahaha. If its just a general "someTHING happened and I am upset" the default is definitely cuddles. They're both absolute cuddle fiends, esp after Karlach's touchable again. If they're not busy adventuring or helping with camp chores they are huddled on a bedroll snuggling, but this is doubly true when one of them is upset because cuddle piles fix everything. "No you may not bother her until she decides she's done, unless you want IN the cuddle pile too then go ahead". You get the idea lolol

What values do they not share? How do they reconcile those differences?

Going with Rai and Dammon for this one bc they're the first ones that came to mind when I looked at this question!

Rai's definitely a warrior/soldier at heart. Fighting comes naturally to her, whether Dammon likes it or not (and assuming that she'd had a "normal" childhood and not been scooped up by Avarice, this would still be true. Just instead she would've probably ended up a Hellrider instead of an Acolyte). It doesn't mean that he's not going to worry, or freak out, when she charges into something dangerous. Especially because Dammon is the opposite. As I said earlier, I think he can fight, he just chooses not to because he doesn't like it.

From Rai's end, it works perfectly fine. She's never expecting Dammon to come with her into battle, she knows he hates it. But Dammon does worry. He's terrified that one day she'll leave for a battle and never come back. And he won't be there, it'll be Wyll and Karlach by themselves coming back to give him the bad news. Dammon doesn't think his heart can take it. He's definitely had panic attacks before because of worrying about Rai charging off into a fight, but he's had to make peace with the fact that it's in her blood and he can't stop her. A frequent exchange between them before Rai runs right into something dangerous is usually Dammon telling her "I don't need you to be a hero, I just need you to be alive and safe" ( D: ). But he has to learn to trust her when she responds with "I promise you, I am coming back. I'm coming home to you when it's over". The more times she does come back, the more he starts to believe it even if the worry doesn't ever completely go away </3.

Rai always makes sure to "check in" with him before and after a fight as a result. Because even if it seems silly to her, she knows Dammon needs to hear her say it. (Also I think once they end up in the closed polycule with Karlach and Wyll, and knowing that they're there to watch eachothers' backs helps Dammon's anxiety be a bit less bad!)

What's different about their backgrounds? Do those differences affect the relationship?

And again bc they were the first pair I thought of after looking at the question, Rai/Wyll ✨

Rai's an orphan, with the Acolyte background because she was raised in a temple in Elturel and the closest thing to a "parent" she ever had was her Mother Superior, Avarice (who is also a Bhaalspawn a.k.a canon-divergent Durge). Even then, Avarice was not at all nurturing past the absolute bare minimum and by that I mean "don't kill the child soldier before she's been put to use in the Blood War" kind of deal. She has no memory of her biological parents whatsoever and doesn't really even know what having parents feels like.

Wyll on the other hand at least has his dad. But as a result of her childhood, Rai doesn't really…understand, the father-son dynamic that Wyll and Ulder have because she never had anything even close to that in her formative years. She's never deliberately confrontational with Ulder but it definitely takes her a LONG time to warm up to him after Wyll tells her about how he ended up pacted with Mizora as a result of what went on between him and his dad. She doesn't want to make things difficult for Wyll (on purpose) or tell him he can't have a relationship with his father. But she definitely doesn't GET it for a good long while and I think that would definitely bleed over into her relationship with Wyll until she can work through it.

(also something to be said for the Nobility/essentially a street urchin class-gap possibly? But no immediate anecdotes come to mind as of typing this. Just that I think that def creates some differences of experience for them that I'll prolly expand upon/explore more as I write more for them! :D)

Who said "I love you" first?

Aaand for this one, I'mma do all the Tav(Rai) ships again, because I think they're all equally cute and I can't just do one sorry! :D So here we goooo, in no particular order ~

Rai and Dammon: Both, pretty much. As discussed in question 10, Rai and Dammon have known eachother pretty much their entire lives. Their "I love you" was a "both of them blurted it out at exactly the same time" deal. When Zevlor recognised Rai and thus let them into the grove, and she started milling around and reconnecting with old friends/acquaintances/found family from Elturel, it takes her a little while to come across Dammon because his makeshift forge is tucked so far into the back of where the tieflings are staying. And while he's close with the other tieflings, Dammon does prefer to keep to himself so when there's a commotion at the gate he doesn't think it's his place to go sticking his nose in. It's probably something to do with a fight, and ever since Avernus he doesn't want much to do with fighting anymore (I'm also a "Dammon is an introvert" truther. And while I think he can wield a sword I feel like he very much chooses not to. Avernus fucking sucked my dudes, and I don't think he enjoys being on or around a battlefield AT ALL after getting back, though he will craft/fix weapons, armour, shields etc for his friends and family and if it called for it (like helping protect the tiefling kiddos during the grove raid, or defending Moonrise with the Tadpole squad and the Harpers) he will pick up a sword and fight if he HAS to. But he'd very much rather not if he has the choice between fighting or not.)

Eventually, she wanders to the back where his forge is and suddenly Rai is hit with a wave of recognition when she catches sight of Dammon and realizes it's him. She ends up getting his attention by calling out to her and at that point he almost burns himself dropping the weapon he'd been putting through the coals because as far as Dammon thought, Rai had died during the fuss with Elturel and he couldn't believe she was here - cue them both almost strangling eachother with hugs, a lot of tears and a very rushed out "I love you" because with the way Rai was carting around looking for a way to get un-tadpoled, they had no idea if there would be a "next time" that they saw eachother alive again and "I need you to know". ;3;

Rai and Wyll: Wyll went first here, but only just. Rai and Wyll's "I love you" was very much both of them were waiting for the other one to say it first because they were worried it was Too Soon(tm) otherwise. Wyll was the one that cracked first and Rai said it back ahem I may also have a fic for this hence why this one is so short, I don't want to spoiler y'all before I'm done w/ the oneshot and that was that.

Rai and Karlach: Rai went first, she'd known she loved Karlach for a while (I'd even make a cheesy "love at first sight" argument for these two tbh lol). Post-Engine upgrade 2, Karlach had a good cry when she realized it had worked, and as she cuddled and comforted her a little "I love you" slipped out into Karlach's hair. Karlach wasn't too far behind, it pretty much went down how it does in-game after they finally get to go to bed on that same night because I just think her getting so excited and yelling "ILOVEYOUTOO!" back at Rai is so goddamn cute that I have to keep it in there ;3; ❤️

#bg3 sort of #couple questions ask meme #mildly n/sfw #suggestive #long post #elven's bg3 headcanons #bg3 oc: tief!saarai #tiefling tav #saarai/wyll #saarai/karlach #saarai/dammon #saarai/karlach/wyll #saarai/karlach/dammon #thank you for picking very fun questions i had a blast writing these #''everyone deserves their own polycule'' truthers unite :P #i am very normal about rai and her polycule (i am physically incapable of being normal about how much i love them. Ever /hj)#also pretty sure i read somewhere that tief tails *aren't* prehensile anymore?? but they are to me so the lore can fight me lmao #also also both wyll and dammon *are* also bi because in her other verse rai's polycule is all-bi so #it makes sense to make dammon bi as well (and wyll is ofc also bi anyway in-game)#so it's not that they're het here they just *happen* to not have a vibe with eachother is all lmao #we had that convo with drunk wyll at the grove party and i couldn't stop fucking laughing #wyll. baby boy. sweetie pie. firstly she loves you *anyway* you silly (affectionate) man.#but besides that; you're complaining about bumpy/spiny dick as if that's not something that's like. if it's *not* canon for tieflings #it *should* be [nodding emphatically]#so you just got 10x as attractive between that and the horns #(actually now that i think about it...#that's prolly about the point in time that wyll realises rai has been doing the fuck-me tail *at him too* and not just at karlach #bc that was her *immediate; instantaneous* response to his complaint about the bumpy dick lmfao)#i love him so much #tw: child abuse mention

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flowersdaggersviolasandblood · 10 months

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Assassin with a Heart of Gold

Name: Admaer Daeneiros (He/Him)

Race: High Elf

Class: Rogue (Assassin)

Background: Criminal

Inspiration & Story: This lil guy I made long before I even touched BG3. He was originally made for a Out of the Abyss game that was unfortunately dropped. So his story was prematurely ended. The main inspo for this character is that he's an asshole with a soft heart. A tsundere hoe who thinks the don't care, but they actually do.

The main concept of his backstory is that he was born and raised a slave, more or less. At a young age, his Elven mother gave him up to a poor Human family. Only for that family to sell him away for money. He spent the majority of his life being bounced around by different slave owners, doing various different jobs that were asked of him. Eventually, his skills were so polished that he did better as a hired killer and assassin. He eventually escapes his enslavement and is on the hunt to kill every slave owner who ever owned him.

Below will related to his story so far within BG3.

WARNING, SPOILERS AHEAD!

Admaer isn't a native in Baldur's Gate, but he was quite obviously in the city when the Mindflayers snatched him up. He was (and still is) on a hunt to go after the man who made his life a living hell. For the purposes of this game, that end goal for Admaer is killing Lord Enver Gortash.

While on the Nautiloid, he opt to not save Shadowheart since the ship was quickly sinking. After the fact, he would meet her again and recruit her in the group. He would do the same with Astarion, Lae'zel, and Wyll. As for Gale, because the portal seemed dangerous, he saw no need to interfere with it.

Admaer's mind right now, aside from his own personal goals, is to get rid of the Mindflayer tadpole within his head. So upon entering the Emerald Grove, he's been largely dismissive of the Tieflings' blight and the Druids wanting to kick them out. However, the small inklings of the Druid Halsin has slightly peaked his interest. He's yet to meet kagha and Nettie.

Companion Relationships:

Astarion: Since EA (Early Access) Astarion was always my number one pick for this character, so he's obviously the "End Game Girl." Right now, in the context of the story, Admaer still doesn't know that Astarion is a vampire. However, both being fellow roguish men, Admaer currently is friendly with Astarion. Though he has noticed that Astarion has been feeling a little slow as of late.

Shadowheart: Admaer is also friendly with Shadowheart, though he is more distrusting of her than he should be of Lae'zel. Shadowhearts' constant bashing against the Githyanki has Admaer questioning why that is the case and if she's hiding any shit of her own. Especially since she's yet to come forth about the mysterious bauble she keeps on her person. If there's one thing he does agree with, it's that they need to find someone who can get rid of the tadpole.

Lae'zel: Not vibing with her condescending attitude, but respecting that she's not afraid to break a few bones to get the job done. Funnily enough, I accidentally appealed to her so much that she offered to fuck him XD. Admaer politely declined, though he did get some insight on what her history was like as a Githyanki warrior serving the Lich Queen, Vlaakith. Admaer is a little bit more on board with going to the Gith Creche since Lae'zel has been forth coming about what the next steps should be. Compared to Shadowhearts suggestion of just finding a healer. You know, in the middle of nowhere.

Gale: Mentioned this earlier, but when he found the unstable sigil, Admaer decided to leave it alone. So no opinion on Gale yet.

Wyll: Admear see's Wyll as a typical "do-gooder" type individual. He's even more confused as to why he's more focused on his search for Karlach than the tadpole they both possess in their head. He allows him to camp with his crew, seeing no point in not including the famed Blade of Frontiers. Especially, if his status holds true, he could utilize his fame to get themselves into the good graces of some important people.

Karlach: He hasn't met her yet. Right now, all he has is Wylls word: She's some sort of Devil who's out murdering innocents.

#Baldur's Gate 3 #Baldur's Gate 3 Spoilers #BG3 Spoilers #TW: Slavery #TAV: Admaer Daeneiros

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beloved-ranger · 3 months

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I like the idea that Faron, being sheltered in Candlekeep for his entire childhood (he’s a half elf so he’s getting rushed out right near when he reached adulthood), would not understand terms like bisexual or trans or cis or anything. Even after being out in the world and I’m pretty sure becoming arch Duke of Baulder’s Gate (not that far yet, working off of what I got from bg3 and some quick Gorion’s Ward info).

So Kane and him are getting buddy buddy in some weird au (since Faron might be canonically dead by bg3? Idk if Jaheria’s lines are meant to imply that Gorion’s Ward is still alive or if she means another Bhaalspawn), Kane brings up the fact he’s gay so Faron says “the fuck? Happy?” Kane goes “no like the sexuality?” Faron is like “yeah well everyone has some form of sexuality and intensity of it, your sexuality can’t be ‘gay’.”

Kane’s like “okay so say there was a guy tiefling and a girl tiefling—” Faron interrupts with “why tiefling?” Kane baffled goes “wait you know what a tiefling is? I thought you were 2E.” Faron laughs and goes “okay just because I’m from 2E doesn’t mean I don’t grow with the other editions buddy. We’re in 5E together, right? I know what the fuck a tiefling is.”

Kane resumes “okay I would go for the guy tiefling because I am gay, which means to me personally that I would only go for the guy tiefling.” Faron nods and is like “okay but what’s the point of labeling it? I’ve made out with men and I’ve kissed women, doesn’t mean that needs a name.” Kane goes “that’s not the point though, it’s just for ease. Like someone who isn’t interested in sex could say they’re asexual.” Faron is understandably miffed by this and goes “yeah but why, can’t they just say they don’t want sex? I don’t get it.”

Kane shakes his head and goes “okay, but like. Labels should always be chosen by the person using them and the meaning of it specifically differs from person to person. More importantly they can help people find community and sometimes it’s nice to have a label for what you are, like bhaalspawn.” Faron furrows his brow and goes “bhaalspawn makes sense, it’s figuring out who you are and why you’re like that. I still don’t understand why there needs to be labels for sexuality?”

Kane nods slowly, a bit annoyed, but he knows better than to fuck with this Bhaalspawn “okay the labels are self chosen, Faron. I just. When I found out I was a bhaalspawn it felt like I was finally getting answers and understanding things, which I think you might’ve felt too. That’s what many people feel when they find a label that they feel fits. When I figured out I was gay it felt right, especially after having my sexuality repressed for so long.” Faron nods “mmm, I mean, you have fucked corpses. Wouldn’t call that too ‘repressed’ but yes I guess I sorta understand to some extent.

“Wait I have one question relating to your sexuality,” Kane says, “are you really that sexually active?” Faron laughs “Ja’eria tell you that? I mean, yeah, sorta I guess. Mainly one and done’s. I mainly go for rangers, fighters, and Druids.” Kane smiles “why’s that?” Faron looks him slowly in his eyes “Jaheria and Minsc. No, shut up Kane, think about it from my perspective. My foster father gets killed, the only people I can truly trust at this point are Imoen, Jaheria, and Khalid. Also look at Minsc.” Kane goes “you knew Khalid, and liked him?” Faron goes “not like romantically towards any of them, but yeah Khalid rocks.”

I could go on but we’d be here all day. In my head Faron and Kane are talking to each other at every chance. Um au where Gorion’s Ward is alive at the same time as Urge (which might be true considering Jaheria’s line but idk. We’ll see when I trigger that line again).

#the dark urge #Gorion’s ward #Kane #Faron

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agentnorthdakota · 2 years

Note

All of them, Zarus >:)

skip any you think are too spoilery

Hi hello ilu ówò Thank you very much!! <3

Also I had no memory of this but apparently I already answered half of these for Zarus?? So I’m gonna answer all the even ones while my energy lasts lol. Also putting this under a readmore for obvious reasons :p (it's long)

2. before they met their party, what was their main goal? To assist Cabal (tiefling necromancer FWB) in their studies, which mostly involved being a. researched themself or b. fetching things for them. He’s also been trying to find a way back to the Feywild, but is in no rush for that since elves live so long and time passes differently in the Feywild. There was a time decades ago where they wanted to find the person who first killed them, but over several deaths those memories have faded, and so has their thirst for revenge.

4. if they could learn one spell that isn’t available to them at present, which spell would it be? Plane Shift is still a good option here, but honestly it would be Sending now. They’re gonna lose their access to their spell when they give up the jest and they’ll be sad they can’t message people at all hours anymore :p

6. which party member do they relate to the most? This is a hard one cause there’s only two options lol and I find all three PCs to be fairly different! They vibe well with Grim, and there’s a shared love for the simpler things in life. But then energy wise they’re probably closer to Caesin, more energized and excitable about their respective areas of study. They’re all pretty blasé about their own deaths lol

8. what are three songs that suit them? Wine Red – The Hush Sound ; Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea – Fall Out Boy ; Dressed in Violets – hometown & young

10. how often do they lie? what situations cause them to be dishonest? Gonna preface this by saying the way Zarus lies is usually in a very casual way, almost habitual. They’ll do the mean girl, passive aggressive thing of being like “Oh I love your outfit, and you’re so great! Come sit with us, I’d just love to know more about you~” and “Oh yeah that guy we killed? We were great friends! <3” And in that way they’ll lie very often, like several times a day depending on the situation. But then he’ll be 100% upfront about things he maybe should hide, like having died before and about people they’ve killed

11. what skills are they proficient in? why? Okay so I answered this before but the reasons Why are less spoilery now. History from their studies growing up, survival from their time travelling around the material plane. Persuasion and deception from their time in the Feywild as a member of the Seelie Court, because I imagine both those skills are very much required for such a position. Arcana is something they’re technically proficient in, but a lot of that knowledge has been lost to forgotten memories, so it’s more bits and pieces now. What they do know of arcana now is probably more tied to the what they’ve learned while helping Cabal. And finally perception, which is just something he’s picked up over years of travelling.

12. have they ever been in love? Ooooh. Not in love per se, at least not that they remember. He’s definitely had relationships before and there are people he’s loved, and people he currently loves, but there’s no one in his memories who particularly stands out.

14. what is something they love about themself? Oh so very much lol. Their love and joy for life, their dedication to their friends/loved ones, their fashion, their hair, magical prowess, ability to talk themselves out of (and into) things… They’re not very self-reflective and would be hard-pressed to recognize their own faults

16. what are their feelings on the people who raised them? Zarus’ memories of their childhood are Vague. Like, very vague. If you asked them, they’d say they probably had a good childhood, so they probably had good parents?

17. what do they dream about, when their dreams are their own? I’m not sure Zarus does dream, between being drow and being reborn. They don’t really… sleep. Which is probably a good thing, because I think if they did it would mostly be nightmares, traumatic recollections of the times they’ve died.

18. do they see themself as a leader or a follower? Hmm this is a tough one. I think he’s the type to see himself as a leader, but a leader among the people. He’s a Prince of the Summer Court but doesn’t see himself as being above anyone else (well, not until they act like a dick, in which case they’re a dick and fuck ‘em). He’s just as happy to follow as he is to lead, if someone else has ideas for leading (especially if that person is someone he cares for and wants to support).

20. which of the five senses do they rely the most on? Sight and hearing. Their sense of smell and taste are probably a bit changed from their time in the Feywild, and their sense of touch is shitty from multiple deaths and scars (burn scars and transplanted arm). That being said their sight isn’t great either, between dying and sunlight sensitivity, but as long as it isn’t too sunny out they’re still proficient.

22. what is a promise they’ve broken? Probably little fleeting promises that they make without thinking about it or committing to it – “I’ll be more careful” “No of course I don’t dislike you!” “Oh yes, I’m fine! Great even~”

24. which of the four elements speaks to them the most? (rip that plants isn’t one of them) Mmmm I suppose water? Fluid and adaptable, but can quickly turn to sharpened icicles

26. who do they miss? If you asked them – no one, really! I mean, whoever they’re away from at that current moment, be it Cabal, Laura, or otherwise. But on a grander scale there’s no one :) (in reality there’s several important from their life they’d certainly miss, if only they properly remembered them)

28. who would they kill? who would they kill for? Turns out this is anyone that is rude or stuck-up lol (despite being stuck-up himself). Death holds very little meaning to Zarus anymore, and killing is much the same. They’d kill without doubt or hesitation if it was for one of their loved ones.

30. what do they seek out from others? That social, human connection. They love spending time with people, especially their friends and loved ones. Relationships in whatever form they might take, be it platonic, intimate, committed, or otherwise.

32. do they seek control, or do they want less of it? They certainly don’t seek it out. The exception to this would be among enemies, as they prefer being able to control and manipulate douchebags they don’t like. Otherwise they’re fine to be in control or to not be, they kinda just go with the flow and whatever the situation calls for.

34. which party member do they go to in a crisis? Definitely Grimshaw. They find him to be practical and realistic, and would also trust his interpretation/view/opinion when they can’t trust their own.

36. what’s a secret they’ve kept? How much of his life he doesn’t remember. His chronic pain, his hidden fear of being maimed again.

38. what do they smell like? Potpourri, because they legitimately carry some at all times. Partly because they like it, and if they smell of death, it covers that scent very well.

40. do they enjoy poetry? Oh definitely! They have an appreciation for the artful weaving of words, and though they aren’t much of a poet themself, they’d certainly enjoy hearing or reading it.

42. what are three words they would use to describe themself? Effervescent, magical, and an optimist.

44. what do they need to learn? Self-reflection. He doesn’t really see his own flaws, or his fears, feel particularly guilty about any pain he’s caused. And to be less blindly trusting, because it will – and has – stab him in the back.

46. what do they deprive themself of? Food, water, sleep/trance – all things they don’t actually Need anymore, but would probably be good for them nonetheless.

48. what do they see in their future? Making more friends/close connections, and sometime in the future returning to the Feywild. Bringing said friends to the Feywild for a vacation and a good time. Beyond that, they don’t really have any solid plans or expectations, and certainly haven’t prepared for anything going wrong (the fact they’ll likely outlive their friends, the effects of their immortality curse, etc.)

50. can they sing? can they dance? I think they could do both of these things better when they were still fully alive! They’ve lost their tone control/recognition a bit, as well as their coordination. Between the two, I’d say dancing is the one they’re better at.

52. from whom do they seek validation? Zarus is actually very confident, and very self-validating (for better or worse). But if anyone it would be the people they’re closest to – Grimshaw, Caesin, Cabal, Laura.

54. what was their education like? They don’t remember where they studied or whose tutelage it was under, but they had some form of good education! Most of their base knowledge of nature, the Feywild, and the arcane are from years of study. They were close with the mentor who taught them most of it, once.

56. what animal do they most relate to? As a druid, Zarus can literally take the form of almost any animal. I think they’d relate more to plants, honestly – moss or fungi, colourful and odd and beautiful. If it had to be an animal, probably a deer or elk – majestic, and able to be strong and independent, but happier and safer as part of a herd/community.

58. what do they think their role in the party is? what is their role in actuality? Social butterfly and communication (ex sending). And they are those things! But they’re also quick to put themself at risk, while trying to keep their companions healed up and safe. They’re also a good researcher/note-taker, but that’s more because of my note-taking habits lol.

60. do they whisper or yell more often? Hmm I’d say this is a fairly even split. Their whisper is often (but not always) more of a stage whisper, but unless they’re calling out across a crowd they don’t yell much per se.

62. outside of otherworldly forces, what do they believe in? Nothing particularly strongly. Luck, fate, and karma could all exist, but they could also not. Zarus puts more faith in the present, in themself and the people around them.

63. what fight has scared them the most? This one’s less spoilerly now, so in terms of backstory definitely when they had their arm bitten off, hid in a narrow crevice, and died from bloodloss and trauma. In terms of fights during the campaign, probably the supernova fight in Domel – they weren’t sure what that was going to cause, and it could have gone Very Badly. They also feared for Cabal’s life during that fight, since they’re mortal and were present until Zarus dimension door’d them away.

64. do they value mercy or justice more? Justice over mercy, but compassion more so. They respect people who care for and fight for others. They aren’t especially merciful, honestly, but the reasons they kill people isn’t for a particular moral code. At the end of the day, it’s more about helping people.

66. who makes them feel warm? Certainly their fellow party members, especially Grimshaw. And then all their other companions, those they’re close to and those they’re not – Cabal, Laura, Lo Vin, Ophelia, the Chameleon, so on and so forth.

68. what was the best moment of their life? Coming back to life. Nah lol, but much of their story would never have happened if they hadn’t. The day they stumbled across a portal to the Feywild is definitely up there, though it would’ve been rather harried and stressful too, but also incredibly exciting.

#Zarus #askcending to blog tier #hi I love talking about my OCs

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momolady · 3 years

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Tiefling Boyfriend: Leary

He was a tiefling, she was a girl, she was also on a bad date.

Female Human x Male Monster Narrator (both cis)

When I took a job as a waiter, I was hoping to learn about the kitchen, because I wanted to be a chef. Instead, I learned that being a waiter was like working retail but with more steps. If I didn’t have bills, I would have quit a long time ago. Tips are usually good, but aside from those and free food the work is draining.

On my days off I’m usually holed up in my apartment, undressed, unwashed, and slouched on the sofa, or over the stove where I am practicing. I still want to be a chef, even after everything I’ve gone through. I love to cook, and maybe one day I can have my own little food truck or cafe, nothing grand like the place I work at. After working there, the idea of having a big restaurant has lost its appeal. Besides, the things I like to cook would be better in the small, outdoor kind of place anyway.

Whatever I cook, I usually leave for my roommate, or at least I think I still have a roommate. We work such opposite hours that I rarely ever see him. I like to pretend my apartment is haunted, and the ghost is eating the food and leaving me uplifting notes on the fridge. I miss having someone to talk to who isn’t part of the restaurant scene.

Tonight the restaurant is a little slow, so I’m not running around as much. I have a few tables, and I’m trying to pay as much attention to them as possible so the tips will make up for the lack of seats filled. One such table looks to be a first date. First dates are pretty easy to gauge, because one or both parties are usually nervous, one person often does all the talking, and there are long, awkward silences.

This date is one of the most one-sided I’ve ever seen. You look so nervous, like you’re trying to disarm a bomb. Your hair is done so nicely, your makeup is impeccable, and you’re wearing a really lovely dress. The guy you’re with has done nothing but talk all evening the flapping of his mouth diminishes his good looks. When I take your order, you’re getting ready to order the bisque, but he interjects and says something that will never fail to repulse me. “I think you should have the salad. Don’t you think that’s better for you?”

The look on your face is enough. You agree to the salad, but your look of disappointment doesn’t fade. If anything, it only gets worse as the date goes on. Every time I go to the table to check on you, your date is talking sideways out of his mouth about you. The needling comments annoy me, so I can’t imagine what they’re doing to you. “You really have a pretty face, you know? Your grandmother was so right about that. If you lost some weight, you’d be unstoppable.” That makes my blood curdle. I was pretty chubby in my youth, and the amount of times that was said to me made me want to remain chubby. It isn’t his right to comment on such things.

“I don’t have an issue with big girls. I think they’re great.” I don’t have an issue with my foot up his ass, but he might. Your smile at him is painful. You’re putting up with this so well, but you don’t need to!

“If you dyed your hair you wouldn’t look so frumpy.”

What the fuck? I’ve had enough. When I go to fill his wine glass, I knock it over ‘accidentally’. It’s not a skill I like to boast about, and I rarely ever have to use it, but sometimes you deal with a diner who is so vile they deserve a stained lap. The glass falls directly onto his chest, and he shouts and stands up, looking at me like I’m the most reprehensible thing on the planet. Maybe I am, but I still feel higher than him. “You stupid…” He scoffs and tries to wipe himself dry. “What the hell are you doing?”

“So sorry, sir! It was an accident. I’ll clean up here if you want to go to the bathroom.” I point towards the back. I don’t make it a point to lie often, but the situation called for it.

He slams down the napkin on the table. “I’ll see your manager when I get back.”

I make a face at his back, then quickly turn to you. “Would you like to run away?”

Your eyes widen and you pout slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Now is your chance to run,” I whisper. “There’s a line for the bathroom, so he’ll be busy for a while.”

Your expression shifts from surprise to fear. “He’s my ride, though.”

I don’t think I could stand thinking about him taking you home. “I’ll take you home,” I offer. Then I extend my hand. “I’m Leary.”

You take my hand, shaking gently. “I remember,” you say with a small smile. Then you introduce yourself. “Please, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m going to worry. You look miserable, and you have since you walked in. No offense if you like this guy…”

“I don’t,” you interject quickly. “My grandmother set us up. She likes him.”

“Then there is no reason to be polite,” I say with a smile. “I can get someone to cover for me, since it’s slow.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you answer quietly. “It’ll be fine. I’ll go home and never have to call him again.”

I can’t help but frown. The way this guy has gone on tonight, leaving him alone with you makes me worry. “You look too nice to waste the evening on him. Just letting you know that.” I finish cleaning up the table. “Time is precious, so don’t let him squander it.”

Your cheeks become rosy and you smile shyly up at me. “Thank you.”

I smile warmly in return. “You deserve to hear it. Don’t thank me.”

You glance back towards the bathrooms. “Maybe you should get your manager, so he won’t be so upset when he comes back.”

My grin grows. “Not to worry. I’m the manager tonight.”

You bite down on your lip to keep from giggling. I wink at you. “I’ll be right back with your complimentary dessert.” I go back to the kitchen with the dirty dishes and the towels I used to mop up the wine and plate two desserts, rolling my eyes already at what your date will say. But I’m prepared, and if he dares to cause any more trouble, I have backup, because the owner is the chef as well as my friend.

“Here you are.” I lay down the plates on the table. The jerk hasn’t returned yet, but I can hear the bathroom door slam open as I place the decadent cheesecake before you.

“My favorite!” you say excitedly. I know a salad isn’t the most filling dinner, so I can tell you’re excited for something else

“It’s not much, but it’s the best I can…”

“No,” the jerk huffs as he storms up upon the table. “Take those away.”

I look at you, then back at him. “They’re complimentary, though.”

“She doesn’t need cheesecake,” he sniffs. “I want to see the manager.”

I nod. “That’s me.”

The guy looks flustered for the briefest of seconds, then starts to laugh. “I know this scam. I’ve seen the memes. Seriously, I want to talk to whoever’s in charge.”

“That’s me,” I say again. “And I’m giving you complimentary dessert.”

“She doesn’t need cheesecake,” he repeats.

“No one does, it’s dessert. It’s just nice.” I’m ready to throw hands with this boy. I bite my tongue to keep composure. “If you want something else, I’ll get you something else.”

“Don’t you have anything with fruit for her?”

I place a fork near her. “There’s more raspberries on the plate than cheesecake.”

Your date scoffs and rolls his eyes. “We don’t want your pity desserts.”

“I want it,” you say shyly.

He barely looks at you. He’s still glaring at me. “We’re leaving. I’m not spending another second here.” He tugs at your arm. “Let’s go.”

“Ow!” you yelp.

He lets go of your arm. “Then get up.”

I move beside you. “Then go.”

Your date stares at me like I’m crazy, then just scoffs and leaves without another word. I make sure he’s gone, then tend to you. “Are you okay?” I ask gently.

You’re rubbing your arm where he grabbed you. “Yeah. I already had a scratch there, so that’s why I yelled. I accidentally ran into a cactus this morning.” You look near tears, but you smile anyway.

I sigh with relief. “Eat your dessert, and take your time. I’ll bring you some coffee if you like.”

You nod. “Just a small one, though. Thank you.”

Someone who saw the whole event pays for your half of the dinner, which was so nice. And since he stormed out without paying, that meant we could refuse him service later. A small win. I brought you coffee and offered to call you a car to take you home.

“Thank you Leary. You’ve been so nice,” you say as you get up to leave. “Is there any way I can repay you?”

I would ask for a date, but I don’t think that’s what you need right now. “I just wanted to help. I don’t need any sort of thanks.”

Your smile is so sweet, and when you touch my hand to give it a squeeze I can still smell the raspberries on you. You leave, and I think that’s the end of it. Maybe I’ll see you again one day, and maybe I won’t. But the next evening, I’m going over the schedule at the bar when, out of the corner of my eye, I see someone walk in. “I’ll be with you in just a second,” I say.

“That’s okay. I just wanted to stop in and thank you again.” It’s you, carrying a potted plant that has a big blue ribbon tied around it, and you look very pleased with yourself.

“Oh, hey,” I say in amazement. “It’s you again. How did you rnight go?”

“He’s been texting me a lot, but I’ve just been ignoring him.” You set the potted plant on the bar. “I wanted to thank you properly, so I brought you this. It’s an aloe plant.”

“Oh, thank you,” I pull the aloe closer to me. “I’ve been wanting to get a plant for the apartment.”

Your cheeks turn bright red. “The leaves reminded me of the shape of your ears. But it’s also easy to take care of!”

It’s so cute I can’t stand it. “Thank you,” I say again, unable to think of anything else. “You didn’t need to do this.”

“I wanted to, though. You were so nice last night.” You press your lips together tightly. “If you have any questions about taking care of it, I put the card for the nursery on the side. I… I also wrote my number on the back, if texting is easier.”

My eyes widen. “Oh! Okay, sure!”

“You’re probably busy. I’ll let you get back to work.” You turn at the door to wave. “Have a good evening!”

I quickly take the card and see your number written along the back. I place it into my pocket for safekeeping, then leave the aloe in the breakroom with my things. I want the night to be over with, not just because I have the day off tomorrow, but so I can send you a message. During a break, I put your number into my phone and send a quick message. “Hey, this is Leary, the waiter. Thanks for the aloe again. Should I put it in sunlight when I get home?”

“That’d be best, but aloe is pretty easy to take care of.” Your reply is swift.

“Okay, good to know.” I answer just as fast. “Is that creep still messaging you?”

“I blocked him, so I don’t know.”

“If he tries to cause any problems, tell me and I’ll help you out.”

“I don’t think he will, but thank you.”

Over the next few days, we text back and forth pretty regularly. You work at a nursery, so you often send me pictures of plants you’re working with during the day. I send you updates about the aloe, and I tell you about my dream of being a chef. You tell me your dream of eventually expanding the nursery and starting a honeybee sanctuary.

This goes on and on until one night, I work up the courage to ask you out. “I’m off next Thursday. I was wondering if you’d like to do something. Maybe go see a movie? Hang out? I’d really like to see you.”

“That would be great! I’m off, too. The nursery is closed on Thursdays, so I’m free all day. I’d like to see you too, Leary.”

I leap up excitedly. “Okay! Where would you like to meet up?”

“I need to do some grocery shopping. Maybe we could meet up after that at Monday Cafe.”

“I need to get a few things, too. Why not just meet at the grocery store?”

Usually you reply so fast, but this time I see the ellipses bob along for a while. Your reply eventually pops up. “Okay. Let’s say at nine? They have that little coffee stand inside, so we can meet there.”

“Okay, perfect! Can’t wait.” I really can’t, and my tail is wagging up a storm.

I head out the next morning, having gotten up early to fret over how to do my hair and what to wear. I settle on a red flannel shirt and jeans, since it’s supposed to be a touch chilly. And unusually, I leave my hair down. I haven’t had it down in ages and had forgotten how long it is. I set out, hoping to get to the coffee stand early so I can buy your drink, but to my surprise I find you there already with two cups in hand.

“I just guessed what you’d like.” You offer me the warm cup.

“You didn’t have to do that!” I protest. “I was going to.”

Your smile is cute. “I still feel like I owe you from saving me from that horrible date. Not to mention I’ve really enjoyed talking to you, Leary.”

I love hearing you say my name. “I’ve enjoyed talking to you too. It’s been a nice change of pace for me.”

We get to shopping, and you ask me about my choice of recipes and ingredients. “I’m not the best cook,” you admit. “Most of the time I just throw rice and a veggie into the rice cooker.”

“I like comfort foods. Things that make you feel warm and cozy when you eat them.” I inspect some bell peppers before throwing them into a bag. “I’d be happy to show you sometime.”

“I’d like that.” You walk along beside me as I push the cart. “I’ve been trying to eat healthier lately.”

“That’s good!”

“But the other night really just…” You stop and frown, gazing off into the distance. “I felt like I’d been doing so well. I was eating better. I was walking more. I felt confident, and then…”

I scoff. “I know. That jerk opened his mouth.”

“I like salads,” you mutter. “But I was going out, and I wanted something more than that. It was a treat, I thought.”

“You don’t have to explain to me. That jerk had no right talking to you the way he did.” I smile at you. “I think you’re adorable, no matter what.”

Your cheeks redden and you look aside with a sweet smile. “You’re pretty cute yourself.”

My tail flicks behind me. “You’re going to make me turn purple!”

“I like your hair down, by the way,” you say softly. “It’s pretty.”

“I can let you play with it, if you want,” I tease.

You giggle and playfully shove me. “Maybe.” You stand closer to me as we shop, something that makes me feel warm and excited.

After we leave the store, I help you unload groceries at your house. I don’t have much, so I keep my things in your fridge until we go to see the movie. Or at least, that’s the plan. We end up lingering at your place, you show me all your plants, and we talk on your veranda for a long time. We sit close together, and as a chilly wind blows I put my arm around you to keep you warm. We go quiet, and there’s a nervousness I recognize from the restaurant. It’s an excited and eager one where both have everything to say, but no idea how to begin.

“You smell nice,” you say quietly.

“Thanks, I bathed.” I instantly hate myself. I look down to see you smiling shyly. I want to kiss you, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds. Our eyes meet, and we’re both suddenly shy and so awkward. I lean in, and you close your eyes. Your lips are so warm, so soft, and your hand presses against my chest before slowly moving up to touch my face.

“Wow,” you breathe as we pull apart. “Your hair is really, really soft.”

I chuckle and kiss your cheek. “I buy expensive conditioner.”

You giggle and reach for another kiss, which I happily deliver. “I think we missed the movie,” you pant.

“That’s okay. There will be more. I like it here much better anyways.”

You snuggle back against my chest. “Me too.”

From then on I try to schedule every Thursday off so I can spend it with you. It doesn’t always work, but we often find ourselves at each other’s places. You stay up late some evenings so we can spend a couple of hours together, and I wake up early on some days so we can have breakfast before you go to work. It’s nice, having these moments together, even if they are too brief. We even trade keys, which is an exciting development for me.

One morning, I wake up as you crawl into bed with me. You're chilled from the outside, but you feel so good snuggled up beside me. “Good morning,” you coo sweetly.

“Good morning indeed.” I wrap my arms around you and kiss the top of your head. “I should go put on some pants.” I offer.

“It’s okay. I like your cute panties,” you tease as you kiss my cheek.

I kiss you back. “I just want to remain a gentleman, and I feel I can’t do that when you do see my panties.”

You shyly hide your face against my neck and hair. “What if I showed you mine?”

How dare you say something so provocative in such a sweet, adorable way? You want to kill me, don’t you? I breathe to calm myself. “Th-that’s all up to you, babe. If you want to, go ahead. If you don’t, I’m happy anyway.”

You sit up, pulling off your leggings then slowly, shyly, removing your dress. Your body is soft and plump, and your underwear matches. You must have been planning this! My heart stops beating, and my blood all rushes to my face. The soft seafoam green you’re wearing is my favorite color. You know this, too. Your skin is so soft against mine as you lie down beside me, nervous but proud of yourself. I touch you, running my long fingers over your skin. I remember how to breathe, and I take a deep one to center myself.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur. “You look amazing.”

“Not really. The bra sort of pinches.” You keep your face hidden, but your leg hooks around mine. Your skin is silky, and you’ve shaved and buttered up with coconut lotion.

“Would you rather I pinch?” I ask teasingly.

You giggle and finally peer up at me. “I wanted to spend a nice morning with you. But I know you’re working this evening, so…” Your thoughts trail off before you clear your throat to bring yourself back to them. “I know you need to sleep.”

I lie you down on your back and move on top of you. I kiss you and touch you, running my hands down your body. “I want you more.”

You gulp and turn your head to the side, allowing me access to the skin of your neck and shoulder. I lick there, and you whimper softly. I gently bite at your earlobe and a soft breath escapes your lips. “Look at me.” My lips brush against your ear. “Let me see your face.”

You move slowly, but your eyes focus on me. You blink rapidly for a moment, then place your hands upon my body. “Your skin is so beautiful. You’re like a sapphire.”

My hair falls off my back and cascades down. Your fingers tangle in it for a moment, gently tugging to pull me down for a kiss. It becomes hot and heavy, and I lose my breath a few times when your tongue touches mine. I want to make you feel the way I did. I want to make you feel divine. I look into your eyes and smooth your hair from your face. “I have a rather naughty idea,” I chuckle. “But I need your permission.”

You swallow hard and nod. “What is it?”

I press my lips to your ear again. “I want to eat you until you come.”

Your hands squeeze tight around my arms. “You don’t have to do that!”

I kiss your cheek and neck. “I want to though.”

You shiver and move your arms around me. Your fingers tickle at the back of my neck as you consider my offer. “I’ve never had that done to me before.”

I kiss you softly. “If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

You nod, then watch me as I slip down and carefully remove your panties, letting them dangle off one of your ankles. I smooth my hands up your legs, kneading them before I gently spread your thighs. You shiver, then relax. I kiss your thighs, your belly before I touch you directly. I rub your vulva with my long fingers, feeling a bit of wetness seep out to greet me. I press my tongue between the folds and your breath shudders. I look up at you, seeing your embarrassed but pleasured face looking down at me. You reach down, stroking my hair away from my face so you can see me better. I spread you open further with my fingers, finding your clit eager to be touched. My tongue presses against it, and your body jerks suddenly.

“Sorry,” you mewl. “It felt really strong.”

I chuckle and kiss it. “I’ll be gentle, then.” I lap up your slit, moving my tongue inside you before circling around your clit again. You moan and sigh, showing that what I’ve been doing is well-received. I kiss your clit again, tapping it gently with my tongue before I fasten my lips around it. You yelp and throw your head back, cupping one hand around your mouth while the other tugs at one of my horns. You don’t struggle or try to get away, so I keep going, applying suction.

“Leary! Leary!” you cry out.

I add my fingers, slipping two inside you, and feel your inner walls tremble and pulse around me. Your hips shake and your voice becomes a deep moan. I continue, suckling and moving my fingers. I moan against you, feeling your passion dripping around my knuckles. Your thighs tighten around me, trapping me and shaking me before you push my head back in desperation. “Stop! Stop!” you cry, ears in your eyes. Your body trembles, curling into a fetal position. You hiccup and whimper as I withdraw, licking your fluids from my lips and chin.

“Are you okay?” I gently ask. I brush your hair aside and kiss your shoulder.

“I’m still…” You lose your breath. “That was…”

I lie against your back, holding you until you uncurl. I stroke my hand down your leg, snuggling and kissing you, then reach between your thighs and cup your sensitive mound in my palm. You moan softly, biting your lip as I knead. “I’ve never come like that,” you sigh.

“I’m glad you did.” I kiss your shoulder. “I wanted you to.”

You roll over and kiss me. “What about you?”

“I’m plenty pleased right now,” I purr. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Could I, though?” you ask with a soft pout.

I smirk at you, enjoying the puppy eyes you’re giving me. “Not right now. Just enjoy yourself.”

You snuggle up against me. “I owe you big time,” you giggle.

“This isn’t about owing me. I don’t want you to feel that way. I did that because I wanted to make you feel good. It made me just as happy as you.”

You kiss me. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

I’m positively beaming the rest of the day, and nothing can knock me off my high horse. I’m tired when I get home, but all I can think about is how amazingly cute you were in the morning. I can still remember how you tasted and felt. But as I walk into my bedroom to change, I am greeted by candles and soft music. You’re sitting on my bed waiting for me, and when our eyes lock you drop the robe around you.

“Welcome home, Leary.”

“Oh, wow,” I breathe. I drop my bag on the ground and just look at you. “Oh, wow!”

You giggle and stand, coming over to me. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day. I hope you don’t mind me here. I know you must be tired, but…”

I kiss you hungrily, and we fall onto the bed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” I say between kisses. My clothes become disheveled, and your hands find bare skin. My belt hits the ground with a thud, and my tail waves behind me, letting you know just how excited I really am.

Your lips and mouth are so warm, and your hands feel so soft against my shaft. My mind is buzzing, excited and elated. Once I’m hard, I can barely stand it. I put on the condom, though I rush and fumble with my excitement. I move between your thighs again, feeling how soft you are with the most sensitive part of me.

“I want you, Leary,” you mewl, your fingers in my hair.

“I want you, too.” I kiss you as I enter you, plunging deep inside as you cling to me. I don’t know how I’ll make it. I want to succumb to your charm and wiles now. But somehow I find the stamina to make the night last.

The morning feels light and cool. My legs and hips are sore, but your warm body cures that. I kiss your hair and get up to make coffee, standing in the kitchen naked with a big smile on my face. Then my roommate comes out of his room, we lock eyes, and my bliss is gone for.

“Morning, Leary,” he says and strolls by. “Your girlfriend seems nice.”

“Thanks, Yuri,” I quickly use a placemat to cover myself. “Good to see you!”

He smirks. “Good to see you, buddy.” He grabs the packed food from the fridge. “Hope to see you again.” He strides out the door, and I feel miserable. I quickly take the coffee back to the bedroom, feeling better once I have you again.

“Good morning,” you yawn.

“Sleep well?” I place the warm coffee in your hands.

“Amazingly so,” you sigh. You give me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. This is nice.”

I smile, watching you as you sip your coffee. “I love you.” The words slip out so naturally it’s almost scary.

You look at me, almost terrified, but then you grin and tears well up. “I love you, too.” Even if my roommate caught me naked, this is still the best day of my life.

#monsterxhuman #monster boyfriend #tiefling #tiefling boyfriend #monster lemon #monster romance #my writing #momolady monsters #monster fudger

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moderndaybard · 3 years

Text

CRInktober: 10/20: Cross-Over/Alternate Universe (Part 1/1—Vox Machina + Mighty Nein)

“Are you serious, Allie?”

“Kima, you know as well as I do that the Mighty Nein will need the help. they are more capable than they seem, but this threat is beyond what even they can muster alone.”

“I know that! That’s why—”

“—You are not going, too and that’s final! You and I have our preparations to make, should this fail.”

“...nevergettohaveanyfunanymore...”

*~*~*~*

It was so rare to hear such urgency in Allura’s voice these days, after so many years of peace, that Keyleth was taken aback at first and had to scramble to catch back up with the rest of the message.

“Did—did you say ‘the Mighty Nein’? They’re in Zadash? Yes, I’ll gather the others; no need to Teleport, we’ll use Tree Stride.” Whew—two words to spare. Allura would probably wonder why the Voice of the Tempest was so quick to agree to anther potentially world-ending adventure, but—

“Hey, Mom? I-I have to leave for a bit, but I’ll be back, I promise! ...I’ve just got a debt to repay...”

*~*~*~*

Allura had told them to wait for back up before heading off to Aeor, that she’d be sending some friends to help them (they’d chosen to wait in Zadash because, seriously, fuck Rexentrum), but she hadn’t said who or how to recognize them.

Still, Beau had to grant that the colorful bunch of weirdos who’d just walked into the tavern were probably that other adventuring group. The monk stood to meet them, arms folded, and was not prepared for the red-haired one with the antlers to rush up and hug her of all things (nor had any of the other newcomers, based on their expressions).

“Thank you,” the weird girl whispered in Beau’s ear—fuck, was she crying? “Vilya—my mom—thank you.”

Realization struck like a fist, and Beau didn’t exactly hug her back, but she did at least relax a little as she mumbled awkwardly...

*~*~*~*

Keyleth eventually explained to the rest of them that this was the group that’d saved her mom, which got everyone talking like they were getting along, which was fine, but Grog kept shifting and looking around.

“Where’s the fight? Allura said there was a big fight comin’?”

The half-orc with the cool scar on his forehead was the only one who answered him. “Up north. We’ll be leaving after some final preparations but...”

“But what?” Grog demanded when he hesitated.

“Well, that is—don’t you need to get a cloak or a coat or a shirt—”

Grog wrinkled his nose. “What for?”

“It’s cold?” the half-orc offered, and Grog wasn’t sure why it was a question—was it cold or wasn’t it?

“So?”

“You know what, big guy, never mind...”

*~*~*~*

Fjord almost jumped when a dark-haired half-elf woman spoke right beside him—he hadn’t heard or seen her approach! “Don’t bother, darling. And don’t worry—Grog and his family come from some pretty harsh and snowy mountains. He’ll be fine.”

Fjord didn’t want to contradict the more experienced adventurer, especially when she sounded so certain, but they’d never been to Eiselcross before, didn’t know what they were in for. “I don’t think there’s a mountain in all of Exandria that will prepare anyone for where we’re going...”

*~*~*~*

Vex listened intently to the half-orc’s description of their destination—the ranger knew she’d be fool not to—and began a mental catalogue of what winter supplies they’d need. Fortunately, this group seemed well-provisioned enough and had the advantage of having already been once before, but Vex’ahlia liked to have some amount of control on any venture she partook in, these days.

Of course, that also meant taking stock of their new allies and what strengths—and weaknesses—they’d bring to the group. Allura’s vouching for them, as well as Keyleth’s second-hand account from Vilya bore some weight, of course, but Vex’ahlia did find it at least a little difficult to reconcile them with the...eccentric individuals before them...

...Especially that blue tiefling currently skipping up to Trinket with some poor, beleaguered rodent in hand...

*~*~*~*

(Continue Reading on AO3)

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sunflowergirl522 · 3 years

Text

Runaway: Their Journey Begins

Pairing: Tiefling!Bucky x Elf!Reader

Summary: Bucky takes a lot of jobs to make a living and this one was no different. Except for the fact that it’s for an elf prince and elves tend to avoid him in general. He accepts and with Sam and Steve they start their journey to find the elf prince’s runaway bride.

Word Count: 3355

Warnings: Language

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The tavern is crowded and full of life except for one dark corner where Steve and Bucky sit drinking from their mugs of beer. Sam had immediately joined everyone else instead of following his friends to their lifeless corner upon their arrival. They had all decided to celebrate the mission they just completed with a drink at their usual place.

“How mad do you think Sam is that we had to trade away his lute for the jewel?” Steve chuckles as he asks and takes another sip of his beer.

“I’m sure there’s still steam coming out of his little ears,” Bucky laughs. “Where is he anyway?” As the two of them look out into the crowd of people trying to spot their friend a table crashes to the ground drawing everyone's attention. Sam’s standing where it once was in front of an orc who looks like he’s trying to make sense of what just happened. Steve and Bucky look at each other before rolling their eyes at how drunk and angry Sam is. They know immediately that he had to have been the one to knock over the table and that he’s about to start a fight.

“Watch where you’re walking you big oaf! You almost trampled me!” Sam kicks at the orcs legs as he speaks. The orcs' eyes narrow in on Sam realizing that he had been the reason the table was knocked over and his drink now covering his lap instead of sitting in his mug.

“You spilled my drink on me. Who do you think you are halfling?” The orcs' voice booms through the tavern as he picks up Sam by his collar.

“It’s your turn.” Steve reminds Bucky as he nonchalantly takes another drink from his mug.

“I know, I know.” Bucky downs the rest of his drink before forcing his way through the crowd. “For such a half pint you sure cause a shit load of trouble Sam.” He grumbles to himself before addressing the orc in the room. “Hey buddy! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

“Get out of here helmet head, I have no issues with you.” Bucky snarls at the insult thrown at him and cracks his knuckles.

“Yeah, well now I got an issue with you.” He lands a punch in the orcs stomach causing him to drop Sam in shock, who immediately dashes over into the corner with Steve.

“Okay devil man, you asked for it.”

The orc swings for Bucky who dodges it while landing another blow to the orcs chest. The crowd in the tavern bursts into chaos and cheers as the fight begins. Bucky manages to dodge another punch just to catch a blow to the face from the orc's other fist. He stumbles back a bit from the force of it and can feel the tear in his lip from his fang. He growls at the smirking orc in front of him. He jumps at him, shoving him over onto a table before climbing on top of him and throwing punch after punch at the orcs face.

Then the doors swing open and everyone freezes as elven guards file into the tavern. The gold of their armor hints to the fact that they’re sun elves. It was rare to see elves in this area. And it was unheard of to ever see a sun elf anywhere other than their territory or in a war. So seeing all the guards fill in the perimeter of the tavern is enough to stop Bucky mid punch. A hush falls over the crowd as an elf prince walks in. He stops in the doorway and scans the place in disgust before his eyes land on Bucky. He makes his way over to him and stops in front of the table. He cringes at the bloodied orc before speaking.

“I’m in need of your services.” Bucky’s eyes go wide for just a second before the orc underneath him groans, drawing his attention back to him. He lands one final blow to his face before standing up and motioning for the prince to follow him over to Sam and Steve. The prince grimaces at the sight of Sam, so drunk he’s barely conscious, and very hesitantly takes a seat across from them while Bucky leans on the wall behind them crossing his arms.

“What can we do for you?”

“Find someone for me. My bride to be has disappeared under my watch. As of this morning she was missing from her room and she’s not in my kingdom. It’s preferable that you find her before her father realizes that she’s missing. I believe that she was kidnapped though any enemies we have wouldn’t have known that she was visiting.”

“What does she look like?”

“She’s a moon elf.”

“I assure you, your majesty, that we don’t see a lot of moon elves in our profession. We’re gonna need a description to find the right girl.” Bucky spits out and a moment of silence passes before something clicks in Bucky’s head. “You’ve never even seen her have you?” The annoyance in his voice isn’t hidden and Steve bursts in quickly so Bucky can have a moment to stew in whatever he’s thinking of saying.

“Where was she last?”

“The last any of my guards or her guards saw her was in the room she was using during her visit.”

“And you probably won’t even let us go there.” Sam hiccups break apart his slurred sentence as he picks his head up from the table just for it to fall back down when he finishes speaking.

“Your drunk friend would be correct. My kingdom is no place for creatures like yourselves.”

“So let me get this right.” Bucky pushes off of the wall and leans his hands on the table and brings his head down to the prince's height. “You expect me to find some lost princess with no description, no reason for someone to take her, and not even be able to try to track her from where she was last?”

“I can give you a piece of her clothing for a scent.” The prince nonchalantly removes his gaze from the nails he was boredly examining and makes eye contact while he speaks.

“I’m not a damned hound!” Bucky snarls and slams his hands on the table causing many guards to step forward. Steve quickly stands up effectively shoving Bucky back and stopping him from doing anything stupid.

“We’ll look for her. Do you have any suggestions on where we should start looking?”

“There’s a town called Tavin that I’ve heard she spends time in, it’s not far from the kingdom, I’d start there.” The prince then stands up and motions with a finger for a guard to step forward. He drops a bag of coins onto the table and Steve grabs them before Sam can open his eyes to get a glance of it and try to snag it. “You’ll get the rest of it after she’s returned safely to the outskirts of my kingdom.” The prince throws over his shoulder as he starts to walk out of the tavern.

“What an entitled fucking weed eater! How the fuck does he think we’re gonna find his precious fucking princess?” The noise Bucky’s fists make when they slam into the table cause heads to turn in their direction and also causes Sam to groan out something about trying to sleep.

“Are you the best at what you do?”

“Of course I am.” Bucky scoffs out, annoyed that Steve would even second guess that.

“Then we shouldn’t have any trouble finding her.” Steve smirks at his friend knowing he had won whatever argument they would have over this whole quest. “Now let's sober up Sam and get ready to go.” He tosses Sam over his shoulder with just a small protest from the halfling and starts to make his way out of the tavern. Bucky follows behind him grumbling to himself in Inferno and makes sure to kick the passed out orcs legs on his way out.

***

They had let Sam sleep for an hour in their room at the inn not far from the tavern while they repacked their belongings. Once they woke him up they gave him a meal and some water to get him more alert. It’s the system they use every time Sam gets drunk too soon before leaving for a quest. They had to create it because Sam always insists that he can drink just as much as them and not get drunk even though he does every single time.

“So what exactly are we doing again?” Sam asks from atop Steve’s shoulders. He had climbed up after not even twenty minutes of walking because he was tired. He shoves some bread into his mouth while he looks at Bucky for an answer.

“We have to find some elf broad for this dick of a prince.” Bucky’s fists haven't been unclenched since they left town. He stalks ahead of his friends in his annoyance without realizing it. His annoyance only amuses Steve because he knows that once they get to Tavin and pick up a trail he’s going to be on top of it.

“Bucky’s still upset that the prince didn’t give us a description or anything to work with.” Steve looks up at the halfling on his shoulders as he explains the hostility in their friend's voice.

“I’m annoyed because the guy seems like an ass!” Bucky yells back over his shoulder.

“An elf gal huh? I have the perfect song for this!”

“No!” Bucky doesn’t even need to turn around to know that Sam’s reaching behind him to grab the lute that he made them stop to buy on their way out.

“Fine but only because it’ll be tough to play on someone's shoulders.”

After a long time of walking the trio comes to a crossroads and according to the map they have, both paths will eventually lead them to Tavin.

“I’ve been to Tavin before, if we go right we’ll get there faster than if we go left.” Bucky looks at Steve and points his thumb over his shoulder at the path to the right of the sign.

“Buck, I’ve gone to Tavin a hundred times. If we go left it’ll take longer, yes, but there’s a small village in between us and Tavin that we could stop at to rest and pick up whatever we’ll need.”

“Steve, if I wanted to stop at a town I would’ve said we should go left. The prince said that we should find her before daddy dearest finds out so we should take the quicker path. And I don’t know about you but I want this over and done with already.”

Their bickering continues for a short while before Sam gets annoyed and looks at the map himself. He takes into consideration what bothe of his friends said and how much he would want to walk before he starts walking one way while bringing his lute around his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Steve calls out to Sam while Bucky smirks at him knowing that Sam’s just made their decision and went with his path.

“I’m gonna find me an elf lover!” After speaking Sam immediately starts to strum and sing a song about the love between an elf and a halfling. Steve shoots his own smirk at Bucky knowing that he’s gonna have to deal with his singing now. BUcky only groans before they both follow close behind Sam.

“Why did I have to befriend a bard?”

“Because said bard has saved your ass on more than one occasion.” Sam answers the rhetorical question still strumming along.

“Shut it shortstack, you were only able to help because no one can see you coming.”

“Can we just all agree that you’re both idiots and move on with our lives? I’d rather not spend the whole trip listening to the two of you argue the whole time.” Steve can’t speak without chuckling over how ridiculous his friends are.

“Alright.” Sam goes back to his song.

“Fine.”

The trio walks on for hours with Sam playing songs here and there and all of them cracking jokes at one another. They walk until after sundown and well into the night. Thanks to the stash of food Sam always has, they don’t even need to stop to hunt for some food.

“Can we stop walking now? It’s starting to get so dark we can’t see the path.” Sam asks as clouds begin to drape around the moon dimming their light source.

“Maybe for you but that’s why I’m here.”

“He’s right, Bucky. We should set up camp for the night, we could all use some sleep anyway.”

“Alright, c’mon, there’s a clearing off to the side of the path up ahead. We can set up there, I’ll start a fire.” Bucky leads his friends up the trail just a little farther before turning off of it and taking his pack off. He leaves Sam and Steve to set up the tent since the moon starts to peek through the clouds providing just enough light to work and goes off to search for wood for a fire. When he comes back he finds Steve sitting outside of the tent with Sam sleeping soundly inside.

“Do you think we really need a fire? I’m getting ready to head in to sleep too.”

“You’re telling me this now? After you let me go off to find the wood.” He drops all the wood at his feet before moving to sit next to Steve.

“I thought you could use some time to yourself to calm down a bit about this quest.” Bucky just nods at him and leans back on his hands.

“Do you really think we’re gonna find the girl Steve?” He asks after a moment of silence passes by.

“Of course I do Buck. As soon as we get a hint of where she is you’ll be able to find her in no time.”

“But what if she doesn’t want to be found?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking and the prince said that no one knew she was visiting right? So how would anyone of known to kidnap her from the kingdom? She could have just run away, I mean the prince doesn’t seem like he’s much of a catch, if I was being forced to marry him I would run away too.”

“I don’t know Buck, from what I’ve heard arranged marriages are rare even among elves. I’m sure if they were getting married they knew each other. I’m gonna head to bed, you should too.”

“Yeah, I will in a bit.” Steve nods and heads into the tent while Bucky looks up at the moon. He can’t help but believe that Steve’s wrong. It has to be an arranged marriage, why else would the prince not know what she looks like.He sits there thinking to himself and looking up at the moon for a while before making his way into the tent.

***

“Rise and shine sleepy head! It’s time to get this show on the road!” Sam bursts into the tent strumming wildly on his lute to get Bucky up. The tiefling groans and flicks Sam with his tail before sitting up. “Shit! You’re so fucking grumpy when you wake up.”

“Because it means another day of having to deal with you.”

“Yeah whatever, put a shirt on and come outside so we can pack up the tent already.”

“Morning Buck.” Steve greets from his spot on the ground where he’s looking at the map. “It looks like we’ll make it to Tavin by noon.” Bucky finishes pulling his shirt over his head as he walks over to his friends to take a look in the food pack.

“Morning.” A strand of his hair falls over his forehead and he runs a hand through his hair between his horns. “The pack’s almost empty, we’ll have to get more food when we get to Tavin.”

“Steve got up and caught some rabbits so that’s something.” Sam speaks in between bites of the roll he has in his hands. He nods his head towards the fire that the rabbits are cooking on.

“You’re not allowed to hold the pack anymore Sam.”

“What, why?”

“I know you’re the one eating all the food. You can be in charge of the tent pack from now on. Now come help me take it apart while Steve finishes packing everything else.”

Bucky and Sam get their gear out of the tent before starting to tear it down. Bucky throws his cloak on and packs up his leather armor while he leaves Sam to pack up each piece of the tent. When Sam starts to reach for the food pack Bucky grabs it before swinging it over his shoulder with his own stuff. And once more they start their journey to Tavin.

***

Tavin is a lively town with merchants and musicians littering the streets. The people loitering around seem happy as they laugh and talk amongst each other. Bucky brings his hood over his head as they reach the crowded town, hiding his horns the best he can. He never knows how people will react to seeing a tiefling walking among them so unless he’s normally in a town he’ll do this.

“You think we should try the tavern first?” Steve asks while motioning to the building with a sign reading ‘La Luna’.

“Yeah, if that doesn’t work we can start asking merchants.”

“Well, what are we waiting for, let’s go!” Sam speeds up thinking he’ll get some food and a drink while they’re there. Just outside of the tavern Bucky grabs onto the back of Sam's shirt successfully stopping him as he tries to keep walking.

“We’re not here to drink, got it?” Sam groans.

“Yeah, yeah, just here to get information. You’re no fun, you know that?” Bucky ignores his friend and follows Steve up to the bartender. Sam grumbles to himself but soon gets distracted by a pretty dwarf sitting in a corner of the place, packing up some food.

“Hey there newcomers, can I get you anything?” The barkeep greets Bucky and Steve as they approach the bar.

“No thanks,” Steve says as he leans against the counter, “we’re just wondering if you could help us find someone.”

“Barely a soul comes through here that I don’t know.”

“We’re looking for a moon elf princess, you seen her?”

“We don’t see a lot of royalty in these parts.” Bucky slides a few coins across the bar knowing how this process works. “Yeah, I’ve seen her. She’s a bit of a regular when she’s out adventuring. Pops actually named this place in honor of her.”

“Has she been here recently?”

“Was here just yesterday, met up with a clan of dwarves who’re here all the time. She left with them.”

“You know where we can find those dwarves?” Bucky leaves a few more coins on the counter.

“You got a map?”

Meanwhile Sam tries to shoot his shot with the dwarf maiden he had spotted.

“Hey sweet thing, my friends and I are in town looking for someone, but I think I might just be who you’re looking for.”

“Maybe you are.” She sends Sam a flirty smile. “But that might depend on who you’re looking for.” And boy is Sam weak to attractive women because he’s quick to spill the beans.

“Some elf princess, I’m sure she doesn’t match your beauty though.”

“Where are you friends now?”

“Over there, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind waiting around if I told them I was leaving with a pretty lady.” Sam points over at Steve and Bucky who’re talking to the bartender and the dwarf watches as Bucky slides coins across the counter with wide eyes.

“I actually have to go.” She leaves in a rush and Sam just shrugs.

“Her loss.” He makes his way over to his friends as the bartender points at the map in front of him.

“Sam, we’ve got a lead.”

Bucky Taglist: @puddinsqueen @koressecretidentity @stevieintheimpala @unmagically @peachytea01 @the-chocoholic-writer @perksofbeingatrex @99-cats @rachmmb @quokkatrash @vanillamaa @strawb3rrydr3ss @that-sarcastic-writer @spideyycents @mackycat11 @crystalsoul2 @rosiemotion @dissectiontime @lmf @jacelynenursalim @aiyanalevina @mooncaffeine @fanofalltheficsx @jewelsrocks99 @lharrietg @yoongisdumplingcheeks @clubcesspool @sailormajinmoon @girl-obsessed-with-things @corvusmorte @sophielovesbarnes @collywobbl @majo240820 @alina02 @toothhurtyam

Marvel Taglist: @its-the-autism-innit-luv @pogueslandia @obsessedwithbuckybarnes @rorysreallyrandom @sxtansqueen @myalupinblack @aya-fay @lieswithoutfairytales @kakakatey @sugarbutterbailey @1-800-ch3rry @amelia-song-pond @leyannrae @ficsnrec @slut-for-bucky-barnes @neenieweenie @officiallyunofficialperson

Everything Taglist: @florenceyelena @ninuffi @i-love-superhero @kolakube9 @lexy9716 @hehehehannahthings

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #fantasy au #runaway

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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years

Text

D20 Fantasy High: Making Room

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: She grunts, presumably shoving at him and not having much success given Fabian’s triumphant snickering. “I said make room-”

Riz pries himself up off the carpet, thinking of moving to help her, when Fabian lets out a startled squeak. Everyone goes quiet.

Fig leans off the bed with truly devilish glee in her tiefling eyes. “Guys, he’s ticklish.”

The Bad Kids try to plan a sleepover, Fabian needs to learn how to share, and Riz is maybe starting to get the hang of this whole friendship thing.

Wordcount: 2.1k

A/N: not to be entirely into D&D on main, but - hey, look, it’s another cool D&D campaign XD shoutout to @hypahticklish for expressing enough interest in this fic to make me want to write it <3

Loose spoilers for the end of Fantasy High Season 1, beware!

---

Riz thinks he’s really starting to get a handle on this whole friendship thing.

Solving a mystery and getting thrown in jail and killing a dragon together aren’t exactly reproducible results, which kind of sucks, but - hey, the six of them are friends now, and they’re hanging out in Fabian’s room on a summer evening, and it’s novel enough to feel like a solved case all on its own.

What’s less satisfying is the amount of missed work they have to catch up on if they want to start as sophomores next year; no one bothered to worry about bringing them homework while they were in actual prison, but all their professors sure seem to care about it now. He gets the feeling that at least part of it is Aguefort trying to keep some degree of respectability after everything that happened with Goldenhoard, but any attempt to reason with him thus far has gotten nowhere but wild-eyed stares and increasingly obtuse lectures on chronomancy and time management. And sure, Riz prides himself on being able to untangle obscure information, but he’s not touching that with a ten foot pole.

They’re all sprawled out on Fabian’s floor, working through assignments with varying levels of fervor ranging from Adaine - actually working with a stack of textbooks nearly up to her shoulder next to her on Fabian’s desk - to Kristen - texting Tracker with a lack of stealth that makes Riz want to grind his teeth a little, even more so than the way she goes bright red and giggles every time her crystal pings - when Fig groans and rolls onto her back.

“You know what?” she says to the room at large, throwing her arms wide. Her hand knocks into her bard notebook, somehow both dusty with disuse and covered in scribbled ballpoint pen sigils. She flips it neatly in the air and elbows it away in Adaine’s direction, earning a half-annoyed yelp. “We should have a sleepover.”

Half of them blink uncomprehendingly, but Kristen drops her crystal in a sudden rush of excitement. “YES,” she shouts. Gorgug, propped against the wall next to her and dozing off over barbarian meditation manuals, startles. “I can show you guys so many cool camp things! We just need a bunch of different colors of yarn and some sticks and - yeah, we can probably skip the holy water to keep the sinners away-”

Riz has - he’s had sleepovers before, if Penny coming over to babysit and finding him crashed out on the couch after a night of reading old case files from his mom counts. He reaches up and straightens his cap, trying to make it look smooth. “Hey, Fabian, do you have coffee here?”

“Wait, wait, hold on a minute.” Fabian, sitting against his giant bed, waves dramatically for all their attention. He looks them over once he gets it, self-importantly adjusting his eyepatch. “Yes, The Ball, we have coffee, we’re not peasants - but sleep over where? Did I miss that part?”

“Uh, here?” Fig says, flinging herself upright. “You’re mom’s super hot - uh, cool, I bet she’d let us do anything.”

“Stop calling my mom hot!” Fabian yelps, glowering for a moment before his chest puffs with familial pride. “Well, we do have at least five guest bedrooms that we could house all of you in-”

“Oh, I don’t need a bed,” Gorgug says hastily. “I’d probably break it, I can just sleep on the floor.”

“Yeah, Fabian, no,” Kristen interjects, gesturing with her staff. Gorgug scrambles to remove the cups they’ve been drinking soda out of from her path. “We’re all supposed to hang out in the same room, that’s kind of the point!” She frowns a little, zeroing in on him. “Have you. Have you never been to a sleepover before?”

Riz hasn’t quite gotten around to making a conspiracy board of how all the specific issues of their messed up childhoods overlap, but he can read the way Fabian startles indignantly loud and clear. “Of - of course I have!” he blusters. “I just - why the fuck would you share a bed if you didn’t have to?”

Adaine scoffs. “Fabian, your bed is enormous, I think we could all fit on it with room for the Hangman left over.”

“No, it’s not!” Fabian scrambles up, chin still raised haughtily, and throws himself bodily on the bed - judging from the way his ankles hang off the edge, he’s starfishing out as far as he possibly can. “I’m - see, I’m a growing boy, I need my space! Cathilda says so.”

Adaine, having claimed the only chair in the room and therefore being the only one at eye level with the mattress, cranes her neck and laughs. “Fabian, you’re covering less than half of the bed. You can just say you’ve never been to a sleepover before, you know.”

Fig stands up and launches herself onto the bed too, landing heavily with the zippers on her leather jacket clanking behind her. “Yeah, you just have to - oof - make room-”

She grunts, presumably shoving at him and not having much success given Fabian’s triumphant snickering. “I said make room-”

Riz pries himself up off the carpet, thinking of moving to help her, when Fabian lets out a startled squeak. Everyone goes quiet.

Fig leans off the bed with truly devilish glee in her tiefling eyes. “Guys, he’s ticklish.”

The room erupts into chaos - Fabian shouting denials, Fig cackling evilly, and Kristen shooting up and banging her shins against the bed before scrambling around to Fabian’s other side. Riz hops up on the desk next to Adaine just in time to watch each of the other girls seize his outstretched arms and start to mercilessly tickle his armpits.

“GAHAHA - no, no, stoHOP-” Fabian flails helplessly between the two of them, still trying to sprawl out over the bed. He manages to wrench his arm free from Fig and shove her away even as he shouts with laughter. “Seacasters are not - ahaaa, haaAA - I’m not ticklish!”

“Oh, yeah?” Kristen taunts. “Then why are you laughing, you - ohshit-”

They’re trying to wrestle him down, but he’s too strong for Fig and too dextrous for Kristen. She lunges for him, red hair flying behind her, and falls straight into his lap.

Fabian catches both of Fig’s wrists in one big hand and uses the other to poke triumphantly at Kristen’s belly, sending her into a fit of cackling giggles. “Aha!” he exclaims triumphantly, struggling into a sitting position. “A Seacaster cannot simply be rousted from his territory!”

All of them know better than to say anything about his dad by now. “Gorgug, come help us hold him down!” Fig demands instead, kicking at Fabian with her platform boots and making him yelp in pain.

Gorgug pulls his headphones all the way off his ears and straightens just enough to take in the tangle of the three of them, looking dubious. “Are you sure? That sounds kind of mean.”

“It’s not a problem if he’s not ticklish, right, Fabian?,” Fig retorts. “And he’s breaking sleepover code by hogging the bed!"

Kristen, still laughing uproariously as she fails to save herself from Fabian’s tickling fingers, somehow manages to shoot Gorgug a pair of finger guns. “Get him, Gorgug!”

Gorgug still looks a little confused - Riz can relate - but he gamely climbs to his feet. “Well, okay.”

He pauses to knock gently on the bedframe, sighing in relief at the heavy thunk that echoes back. “Oh, cool, that’s pretty strong.”

Fig yelps as Fabian lets up on Kristen and starts prodding at her belly instead. “Gorgug, come on!”

“Oh, right,” Gorgug says, and sends the mattress an entire inch to the left as he scrambles on.

“Hell yeah!” Fig cheers as Gorgug climbs on the bed and sweeps Fabian up in a restraining hug. “Sig Figs solidarity!”

Kristen squirms out from between the three of them. “Hey, I’m here too!”

She flops down with a breathy sigh and hugs herself, grinning widely as she catches sight of the identical what-the-fuck expressions that Riz is pretty sure he and Adaine are wearing. “Ugh, I haven’t been tickled in forever.”

Adaine makes a considering sound as Kristen twists back to the battle royale happening behind her. Riz looks over at her, catches one of her ears twitching under the attention before she looks back. “I don’t think I’ve ever been tickled,” she murmurs, a little shy.

Penny’s tickled him before, and maybe his mom when he was little, but yeah, it’s been a while. He shrugs. “You think you’d like it?”

There’s another cry from the bed, and both of them whip around to look. Fig’s looming over a thoroughly trapped Fabian now - just barely, even with her horns - and wriggling her fingers evilly with gleaming eyes. “Are you going to say you’re sorry for breaking sleepover code?”

“There’s - there’s no sleepover code,” Fabian sputters, but he’s grinning sheepishly even as he squirms against Gorgug’s hold. “Gorgug, man, come on, you can’t just betray a fellow member of the Bloodrush team like this!”

“Oh - uh -” Gorgug looks pleadingly at the both of them. “But I’m in the Sig Figs too - does that mean one of you guys is going to be mad at me?”

Fabian barely blinks. “Yes.”

“YES,” says Fig, even louder.

“Oh, come on, you two.” Kristen sits up between Fig and Fabian, poking at both of their sides and cutting their protests off as they suck their lower lips between their teeth with identical wide-eyed looks. Then, with a curious tilt to her head, she reaches around to tickle Gorgug’s side too, grinning as he squeaks. “There are no sides in a tickle fight, everyone knows this.”

Riz forgets that Kristen has three little brothers, sometimes. It’s easy to, until she starts playing peacekeeper between the rest of them.

“Where are all these rules coming from?” Fabian questions indignantly. Adaine makes a sound of agreement next to Riz - is she writing these down?

Oh, who’s he kidding, he’s probably going to ask her for a copy afterwards.

Fig smirks. “Well, I think the person with their hands free should get to enforce the rules. Like so.” She reaches for the thin tank top Fabian’s wearing and scribbles her fingers over his belly, crowing in delight as he shrieks. “Not ticklish, huh? Who’s ticklish now, bitch?”

“You - ahaha, haaa, fuck - anyone’s ticklish when they’re being restrained!” Fabian insists through panicked laughter, wriggling for all he’s worth. Riz squints - maybe it’s just the rogue homework he’s been doing lately, but it looks like Gorgug’s not even holding him that tight.

He shrieks again as Kristen bounces excitedly and reaches for him too. “Nonono, NOHOHO - Kristen, ahaha! You said - eheheee, stop - you said no sihihides!”

“These are your hips, Fabian. And no sides doesn’t mean you can’t gang up on people,” Kristen sticks her tongue out in concentration, squeezing at one of his hips and then the other. “Hey, say you’re ticklish.”

“What? No - hahaha - shit, shiHIHIT-” Fabian starts to really thrash under their teasing - Riz catches him elbowing Gorgug neatly in the gut, but their barbarian absorbs the blow like it’s nothing. Riz tries not to feel jealous and doesn’t entirely succeed.

Kristen smiles beatifically from cheek to freckled cheek. “The truth’ll set you free, brother.”

Fabian shakes his head frantically, catching sight of Riz and Adaine by his desk through teary eyes. “The Ball - The Ball, help me, this isn’t - ahahaha, nonoplease - it’s not fair!” he pleads through the widest smile Riz has seen on him so far, which is saying something. “Don’t you care about justice?”

Fig looks over at them too, now, hair slipping from her braid and fangs on full display as she beams. “Yeah, you two, get over here or you’re next! You’re missing out on the sleepover fun!”

“Oh,” Adaine says uncertainly. “I didn’t know this was part of it.”

She looks over at Riz - not that he knows any better, but he’s absolutely not going to cop to it. “Oh, yeah, tickle fights,” he blusters. “Definitely part of sleepovers. To, uh, tire everyone out.”

Adaine looks out of the window at blue skies just barely starting to blush pink and gets a small, quiet grin on her face that he can’t help but return. “Oh, okay,” she says. “Riz, are you ticklish?”

Oh. Oh, no.

Riz stiffens. It doesn’t seem like anyone else has heard Adaine’s question, maybe he can get under the bed before any of them notice -

He. He could, is the thing, he’s an awesome rogue, but - out here seems pretty fun too. “That’s more of a hands-on investigation thing,” he shoots back, and leaps for the bed before she can catch hold of him.

He is, after all, an investigator first and foremost, and there’s more room to be made on that mattress.

#tickling #dimension 20 #fantasy high #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #figueroth faeth #kristen applebees #adaine abernant #gorgug thistlespring #chocfic #i really don't know why i decided to start with writing all six of them but uhhhh i hope the characterization is okay?

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out-there-so-it-isnt-just-me · 3 years

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Hey guys...I have an idea if you aren't sad enough yet. I was struck by a painful comparison sort of crossover idea. It would never be canon, but I'm mourning the end of Campaign Two, and I want to be sad and over-dramatic. Essek, but as Eliza from Hamilton in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” But, it’s for the entire Mighty Nien. Some of the lyrics are so on point for a poor Essek who will probably outlive all of his friends (Elves still generally live longer than Firbolgs by a good 200 years). Anyway, enjoy.

Every other founding father's story gets told

It occurs to Essek, during one of the many periods without one of the Mighty Nein (the time that he dwells on them the most), how unfair their whole situation is. They saved all of Exandria, and no one knows. They are amazing, and odd, and frustrating, and no one knows. They will die loved deeply, but not widely. He knows they prefer it that way, all things considered. But, everyone else who saves all of Exandria becomes legends, while the people he loves best will be forgotten, remembered only by him.

And that. That sounds unbearable.

So, in-between the times he sees the Mighty Nein, he begins to gather accounts. He writes down stories from those they helped, or simply left an impression on. The people who have met the Mighty Nein have an air about them that he gets good at detecting. They attracted the oddballs and the outcasts. And if they're entirely normal (whatever that means), then they usually get a certain twitch if you ask for stories about interesting strangers. About half the time, a certain blue tiefling pops up in them. He almost has a heart attack when he hears “go fuck yourself,” in Jester’s cheerful voice, when he knows Jester isn’t anywhere near there. He ends up getting the kenku’s story, and the voices of his friends are weaved into it. Essek thinks the Mighty Nein are the best people in the world, in their own rambunctious way. Part of him wants the world to love them as he does, or at least have the option to. Everyone should have a chance to get to know them, even if it's just through tales. The world would be a better place for it.

...And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame?

Who tells your story?

Once there is only him and Caduceus left, this becomes a more prominent part of how he spends his time. After...after a long, long period of mourning. He has so much life left to live without most of the people who made it worth living.

I put myself back in the narrative

I stop wasting time on tears

I live another 50(0) years

He stops hiding his past and bears his sins and his story to the world. Essek tells his story so their story can be appreciated to the fullest; his part in their story emphasizes the depth of their compassion and chaos. He tells his story, but not as himself. Essek continues to drift from town to town under a vast number of aliases. Everywhere he goes, he spreads his stories of his friends, some serious, most silly. He disguises himself so he can stay alive to do a little more good, tell a few more stories, to truly live the life his friends wanted for him.

...I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings

You really do write like you're running out of time.

Eventually, he gets his hands on some of Beau’s journals, Jester’s diaries, and Caleb’s research. Well, he always had the research, but he gets to the point where he can share it with the world. He slowly begins to share and explain their thoughts and personalities with excerpts from those. Maybe he also has letters that he shares parts of (though most of those, those words specifically for him, he keeps to himself, for himself). He wonders if they'd be angry at him for spilling their private thoughts. But neither Beau nor Jester filtered their thoughts very much in the first place, and he keeps anything truly painful out of the public eye. Caleb, well, Caleb was always about sharing his knowledge and research, provided it wasn't dangerous. And they were all dead anyway. One of the last things they told him was to be happy. And talking about his friends, learning more about his friends even after they were long dead, that made him the happiest he'd been in a while. So he hoped they wouldn’t begrudge him this small joy he’d managed to grasp and forgive him, should it be necessary.

I rely on Angelica

While she's alive, we tell your story

She is buried in Trinity Church near you

When I needed her most, she was right on time

Caduceus isn’t particularly interested in being well known or famous, but he never shies away from telling a story about any of his friends. Plus, he thinks it’s a good project for Essek. It's a way to continue to show his love for them and keep them alive in the only way they can be now. When Caduceus eventually passes away, he joins the eight other graves (Veth refused to be buried apart from Yeza) that lay in a tucked-away corner of the Blooming Grove. There is one space left, nestled between where Caleb and Jester lay, but it will be empty for a long time yet.

And I'm still not through

I ask myself, what would you do if you had more time...

...You could have done so much more if you only had time

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

He keeps adding to his tale; he stretches it longer and longer with every shred he can remember. But, even his memory, as long as it is, runs out eventually. And their story finally ends, but he doesn't. He throws himself into activities that remind him of them. He does a lot of gardening ( mostly tea, poisonous plants, and flowers). He teaches children some rudimentary dunamancy in his spare time, for Caleb. He messes around with alchemy a little. Eventually, he publishes the last of the research that he and Caleb worked on together; ones that took him decades to solve by himself. He even finds himself drawing a surprising amount of dicks on random surfaces near the very end.

Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?

...I help to raise hundreds of children

I get to see them growing up

The time that doesn’t go towards his now worrying amount of hobbies, he spends doing what he has done since the beginning: caring for the Mighty Nien’s true legacy. He looks after and visits their children. He takes care of descendants of Luc, of Jester and Fjord, of the random teenager that Beau and Yasha seemed to adopt completely on accident, of TJ, of the Clays, and of a lovechild of Kingsley’s that found out who his father was and then somehow found Essek himself to learn about him. In an embarrassing show of sentimentality, Essek always keeps at least one offspring of Caleb's very first cat. There is a very funny story about Caleb thinking the animal was spayed when it was, in fact, not. He visits the different generations every couple of years or so (he has a schedule). The drow makes sure they know the stories of their ancestors, the adventures of the Mighty Nien; he tells them it's all real. He gives them ways to contact him if they’re in danger, or need any kind of help really ( he has funds to spare at this point). Every once in a while, a few of them will get it in their heads to write him yearly updates. It’s nice.

In their eyes, I see you, Alexander

I see you every time

And when my time is up

Have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

It is strange and painful to see the attitude and mannerisms of the Nein in the descendants who have never met them. It is wonderful too. His stories of the Mighty Nein have become well-known tales that no one can decide how much is truth and how much is fiction (it’s true, it’s all somehow, hilariously true). He preserved them in his own way, in the right way (time travel is something he thinks of with a growing hunger the more years pass between when he last laid eyes on his friends). But in these men, these women, these children, they are truly alive.

One little half-orc girl has Jester’s mischievous eyes and infectious joy. Another halfling man squints just like Veth when she's trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her. There’s a boy who charmingly bumbles his way through most social encounters, as Fjord did. A firbolg woman who has Caduceus gentle smile. A tiefling girl with all the audacious bravado of Kingsley. A man with eyes just as piercing as Beau’s, and a tongue just as sharp. Even Yasha’s kind and gentle demeanor somehow shines through in one small boy, despite her having no direct descendants. He gets to see these flashes of his friends in those who survive them, and it thrills him as much as it cuts him. (Sometimes, when the current cat has ruined some item of his, the pleased look it wears resembles the quiet glee Caleb exuded after he pulled a successful prank, but he’s pretty sure that’s just fanciful thinking.)

One of the last things Essek does before he dies is fully publish, in print, the entire tale of the Mighty Nein. How they came together, every person they helped along the way. The love, the loss, the kindness, the chaos, every moment he could recall or record was put into this one account (necessarily stretched out into several separate books). There is only one set, and he hands it over to the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. Then he goes on his lonely way.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again

It's only a matter of time

There are now ten graves, each one as unique as its owner, nestled in a small corner of the Blooming Grove. One grave has the dirt still fresh around it. And somewhere, beyond the Divine Gate, there are cheers and laughs and cries of joy as the Mighty Nien become the Mighty Nine once more.

fin.

It’s my head-canon that by the time Essek dies he’s practically a mythical figure among the select families he looks after. It's to the point that in certain locations ( that have a lot of Nein remnants) he becomes a local legend, the guardian angel of nien (no spelling specified and with no real distinction of what that means), with skin like the night sky who drifts (literally) through towns and helps those who meet a certain requirement, unknown to the general populus. There are rumors that certain people have bestowed upon them a token they could use to call upon the angel’s aid. Of course, the people who have the tokens (sending stones or something similar. IDK how he would get that many wondrous items, but I focus on satisfying narrative not, like, plausibility) know Essek and know that he has died and that the tokens no longer work, but for a while they keep them as heirlooms, to show the love of one drow wizard for the friends he had long, long ago. Eventually, one of Veth’s descendants sells off their set because sending stones are worth A LOT, and the money seemed more practical. They have their stories; those are enough.

And before anyone complains about the Kingsley bit, I felt compelled to add a smidgen of Kingsley content because Essek loves Jester and Jester’s with Fjord and Kingsley is with both of them for years. I’m sure they get to know each other well enough that seeing traits of Kingsley is vaguely nostalgic and warming, even if it lacks the depth and love he feels for everyone else. Also, there’s no convincing me that Molly/Kingsley doesn’t have at least one illegitimate child running around from various trysts, he was basically the Scanlan of this campaign. It goes with the hedonistic vibe he gives off.

Also, is it normal that I completely designed the Nein’s burial site in my head because I did? Like I imagine they’re all spaced out in a circle. It’s almost like a stone gazebo but there’s not really a roof; it’s just a group of nine pillars that support a stone circle. The entrance is the Traveler’s door with dicks around the edge, and each of the nine pillars/supports is designed to look the knowing mistresses staff. The stone circle is covered in carvings of storm clouds and lightning. Wires are strung across the center of the stone circle to form the symbol of the Cobalt Soul. Not that you can see the wires, because vines have been grown all around them. Once you step through the Traveler’s gate, you’ll find yourself on some kind of rough mosaic floor, with depictions of a peacock, a pyramid, a snake, a sun, a moon, and (oddly) a pirate ship. The mosaic is made up of buttons of various materials and shapes. In the center is a saltwater pool/spring (depending on how magical we can get idk) and floating above it is an eternal flame encased in some sort of dunamancy magic that doesn’t actually exist that keeps it floating and eternal. Look I'm running out of ideas.

I can’t imagine what everyone’s grave marker would be, but I’m pretty sure Yasha’s is a simple stone that says "YASHA NYDOORIN: wife of Zuella and Beauregard Lionette," and the place where’s she’s buried is just covered in wildflowers that spread outside of the gazebo to encircle the structure entirely up to the gate. Also, everyone has a stone tarot card by their grave with the picture and designation that Molly gave them. Beyond that grows a weirdly dense thicket of trees and bushes that make finding the Nein's resting place rather hard. It’s said only the descendants of the Nein’s family or those favored by the Wildmother (or Traveler, Or Ioun, or Storm Lord) can find their way to them. And one tree, directly behind Yasha, is dead, struck by lightning who knows how long ago.

And they’re buried in this order: Yeza/Veth, Caleb, Essek, Jester, Ford, Kingsley, Yasha, Beau, Cad. I know there’s a good chance that a) Kingsley would just eff off and die somewhere unknown and b) Cad would probably want to be buried with the rest of his family, but shhh let me dream.

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thetravelerwrites · 4 years

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DuMont (Part 3) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Elf Ranger/Male Tiefling Barbarian Additional Tags: Exophilia, Tiefling, Elf, Kobold, Half Elf, Human, Rogue, Bard, Barbarian, Ranger, Mage, Wizard, D&D, Dungeons & Dragons, Sex, Third Person Perspective Words: 3839

Kharis seems dissatisfied with DuMont's... performance, so DuMont intends to ask for advice from Rupert. Things don’t go as planned. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

“Why do you do that?” Kharis asked as she and DuMont lay in their bed of straw and furs together.

They were sheltering in a run down barn on the outskirts of the nearest town. Rupert, Sanoh, and Norman were at an inn, but DuMont was too large to fit through most doors. Kharis decided to stay with DuMont instead of enjoying the comforts of the inn, which usually meant she was feeling frisky.

“Do what?” DuMont asked, looking over at her in confusion.

She sighed. “Ask me if I’m okay every time I make a noise when we have sex? And you’re always so gentle, like I’m made of glass and you’re scared you’re going to hurt me.”

“I am scared of that,” He replied, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at her. “I could injure you very easily if I’m not careful. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Kharis sighed discontentedly and reached up to scratch his chest absentmindedly. “It’s not that I don’t like the gentleness. It’s sweet. But I wish you would lose control sometimes, take charge, be spontaneous. Just grab me and fuck me senseless without even saying anything. I’m always the one who tells you what to do, and trust me I love giving orders, but I’d love it if you told me to just shut up and suck your dick once in a while.”

DuMont grimaced. “I don’t think I’d feel right, saying something like that.”

“That’s kind of my point, darling,” She said, sitting up with a slight chuckle. “You’re too pure for your own good sometimes. It’s growing up in that church that did it, it must be. What did that caretaker of yours tell you about sex?”

“That it was mostly a trap set by women to steal a man’s money. He was rather bitter about some woman in his past, I think, though he never talked about it.”

Kharis snorted. “That tracks. Look, it’s not like I want you to treat me badly or be cruel to me. It’s not about being gross or vulgar or wanting to hurt me, it’s about being aggressive, feral, demanding. Using my body to get what you want. When that’s done the right way, it’s so sexy. And I’m giving you consent to do it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“But I don’t know how to do that without hurting you,” He said, mildly frustrated.

Kharis sighed again. “I know, angel. It’s alright, don’t worry yourself too much over it. We’ll figure it out.” She rolled into him and snuggled against his body. “Get some sleep. We need to be up and moving before dawn. Love you.”

“Love you,” DuMont echoed, curling his body around hers and making sure she was as warm as he could make her.

Kharis fell asleep pretty quickly, but DuMont was unable to fall asleep for some time. He replayed the conversation with Kharis over and over in his mind, trying to parse what it was she wanted. Did she really want him to hurt her or be violent with her? That couldn’t be right. When he was violent, he killed people. He didn’t even mean to kill people sometimes, it just happened. He was still trying to gauge his strength and he often failed. How could he be forceful with her and not end up injuring her, or even killing her?

Maybe he could ask Rupert or Norman. Rupert and Sanoh were… very active… almost as active as he and Kharis were, but they both had more experience than he did. Norman was known to hire companions frequently, so he had different partners often. Norman and Rupert might be able to help.

The next day, the five of them came upon something that they hadn’t encountered in their travels: a proper bathhouse. It was lavish and resplendent and wildly out of place in this little town.

“Oh! Look!” Kharis said, pointing excitedly. “Look how big the doors are! DuMont, you’ll fit! We should splurge a little! We made a ton of gold from our last job and I haven’t had a bath that wasn’t in a cold pond in ages. Please, let’s go!”

“I’m totally down for this,” Sanoh said. “My scales have been so dry and itchy. I think I’m getting ready to molt.” She grimaced and scratched at her arm, which did look a bit flaky. “I hate molting. I’m out of commission for a solid week. It’s such an inconvenience.”

“How often do you molt?” Norman asked.

“Once a year. The good news is, once I’m done we can sell the skin for a good price. People grind it up and use it as a wound paste.”

“That’s actually fascinating,” Rupert said. “I wonder what magical properties your sheds might have.”

“Yeah, that’s great and totally not gross at all, are we doing this or what?” Kharis said impatiently.

“Sure, sure,” Norman said. “As long as we’re not spending all our money, it’s fine.”

The four of them started forward toward the building, but DuMont hesitated. Kharis doubled back.

“You okay, big guy?” She asked, patting his arm.

“Are you sure you want me to come in with you?” He asked apprehensively.

“Of course!” Kharis said. “Have you ever had a proper bath before?”

“I don’t think so,” He said.

“Then this could be an opportunity for you. Come get pampered with us. It’s fun.”

DuMont groused uncertainly, but he allowed Kharis to drag him into the bathhouse.

DuMont felt very out of place inside the pastel walls of the parlor, looking around at the delicate figurines and statues with discomfort and attempting to make himself smaller. The hostess, an elven woman, looked at him warily but greeted them all brightly.

“Welcome to the Rushing Waters Baths. Will you be needing separate rooms or a communal room this evening? The separate rooms are more private, but also more expensive.”

“One for the boys and one for the girls?” Rupert asked.

“Sounds good to me,” Kharis said. “Do you have one big enough for my sweetheart here?” She patted DuMont’s arm.

The elven woman looked him up and down appraisingly. “Unfortunately, I think the only bath that will fit him is the public bath. However, we have no other customers at the moment, so he will have it to himself.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Kharis said. “You’ll get to stretch your legs and soak for a while.”

DuMont grunted. “Thank you,” He said, addressing the hostess. His deep, low voice rattled the shelves slightly.

“We also offer laundering services,” The hostess said. “Simply leave your clothing on the shelves at the exterior of the bathing rooms and a silver for the service.”

DuMont looked down at himself and the simple loincloth he wore for modesty’s sake. He also donned a simple coat that Kharis had fashioned for him out of some large drapes for when it started getting cold. She wasn’t a great seamstress and the coat was a little haphazard and slapdash, but DuMont had treasured the gift and rarely took it off.

He had money now for the first time in his life, but there wasn’t many places that made clothing in his size. He could commission something, he supposed, but considering how often he ended up covered with dirt and blood, there wasn’t much point.

“You will need to leave your… weapons,” She glanced at the massive church bell tied to a post that DuMont used as a bludgeon. “At the door, of course. They will also be cleaned.”

“This is a strange place to be in the middle of such a small town,” Norman said.

“We’re a resort town, actually,” The hostess replied in a chipper tone that made Kharis roll her eyes.

“A what?” DuMont asked.

“It’s a town rich people build so they can pretend to be simple country folk while looking down their noses at them at the same time,” Kharis said in an undertone. The hostess frowned at her.

“How much for two private rooms and the public bath?” Sanoh asked, redirecting the hostess’s attention.

“The public bath is only two copper, and another copper for soap,” The hostess replied, still eyed Kharis while disfavor. “For two private baths, it’s six silver. Soap and towels are provided.”

“Do you provide companionship?” Norman asked.

“Wait until we get to the inn, Norm!” Rupert said. “I don’t want to be in the room with you when you have your fun!”

“Prude,” Norman sniffed.

“We actually own the inn, as well,” The hostess said. “You can book your rooms and companionship here for later, if you’d like.”

“Good, let’s do that,” Norman said.

It took a few minutes for them to iron out all the details while DuMont stood in the back awkwardly. He then waited while his friends were led to their own bathing rooms.

Before he could be taken to the public bath, he asked the hostess, “Could I visit my friends’ room? I’d like to ask their advice privately.”

“Of course,” The hostess said. “Right this way.”

She led him to one of the rooms, in which there was a flowery perfume smell. Steam emanated from under the door.

“They are undressing in the side room,” The hostess said. “You are free to wait for them.”

“Thank you, miss,” He replied. She nodded and excused herself.

DuMont stepped in and lowered his massive body into a squat-sit position, waiting patiently. The door opened after a moment, and to his dismay, a very naked Sanoh walked through. DuMont slapped his hands over his eyes.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed. “The hostess must have brought me to the wrong room! I meant to go to the mens’ bath!”

Sanoh laughed. “It’s okay, big guy!” He heard the sound of her slipping into the water. “Feeling a bit lonely? Did you want to bath with the guys?”

“No,” He replied, still covering his eyes. “Well, yes, but no. I wanted to ask their advice about something.”

“Oh?” She said, her voice piqued with interest. “Maybe I can help. What’s the problem?”

“Oh…” DuMont hesitated. “Well… It’s private.”

“It’s about Kharis?” Sanoh hazarded.

“Yes,” He responded.

“Is it about sex?” Sanoh said shrewdly.

“Yes,” He said, almost dropping his hands in surprise. “How did you know?”

“Because Kharis and I talk, sweetie,” She replied. “Look, you can lower your hands. I’m not all that shy, honey; ask Rupert. Besides, if you want to know what a woman wants during sex, you shouldn’t ask a man. Why don’t you get in and sit with me and we can talk. Kharis is getting a drink, so she’ll be a few minutes.”

DuMont slowly lowered his hands and was relieved to see that Sanoh had sunk beneath the bath, which seemed to have a cloudy, pleasant smelling mixture in it that obscured most of her body. He carefully stood up and climbed into the bath, raising the level of the water by at least a foot. He took great care not to crowd her, looking much like an oversized dog crouching in a box too small for him.

“Alright, so what’s the issue?” She asked.

“Kharis wants me to be more aggressive,” DuMont said, hanging his head. “But I’m worried that I might hurt her.”

“I see,” Sanoh said, leaning forward a little. “I mean, I like a little bit of pain during sex, but I imagine it would be difficult for you, considering your size and strength.”

“That’s what worries me,” He replied anxiously.

“Well, there are plenty of ways of being assertive without hurting anyone,” Sanoh replied. “What about just ripping her clothes off the next time you feel frisky? Ooh, with your teeth! That would be hot.”

“But wouldn’t I make her mad if I ruin her clothes?” DuMont asked, cocking his head.

Sanoh shook her head. “Trust me, do it right, and she’ll be putty in your hands. Besides, we’re flush with cash right now. Kharis can buy new clothes. Kharis is also a little bit of an exhibitionist, so she’d probably like some public sex.”

DuMont balked at this idea. “That’s indecent! And also illegal, as far as I know!”

“I don’t mean do it out in the open! Although, knowing Kharis, she would probably love that,” Sanoh muttered thoughtfully. “No, no, somewhere public adjacent, like a rooftop or just beyond a tree line, somewhere you have the potential to be caught.”

DuMont frowned uncertainly. “Alright. What else could I do?”

“You could snarl at her when the two of you are getting in the mood. Some women really love that primal, feral energy. Love bites could be good, too. I do love it when Rupert puts his teeth to my scales.”

“But…” DuMont ran a finger over his exposed fangs. “I don’t know if I could do that. What if I actually bit her?”

“Drawing a little bit of blood might be alright, just don’t go very deep.”

DuMont grimaced uncertainly, but didn’t say anything.

“Honestly, honey, I think you’re really overthinking things. You’re just a big sweetie pie! I don’t think you could hurt Kharis, even if you tried to.”

“That’s patently incorrect,” DuMont protested.

“Just try it, big guy,” Sanoh insisted. “It’s called experimenting for a reason. If it doesn’t work out, then you don’t have to do it again.”

“I suppose,” DuMont replied slowly.

“Either way, Kharis should be here soon, and you should go take your bath. First rule of being a freelance mercenary: never let something you paid money for go to waste.”

With some difficulty, he climbed out of Sanoh’s bath and headed back for the public bath. It was fairly large; he was able to stretch out, still clothed, and soak his whole body with relative ease. He swam around the bath a little, using the soap Kharis had bought for him to wash his body and clothes.

In the warm water, he mulled over the suggestions Sanoh had given him. Feral, huh? Like… maybe hunting? The only time he really let loose is when he was hunting, though his intent was usually to kill. Perhaps he could modify it and turn it into a game? Would Kharis like that? He could try it.

After only ten minutes, he rinsed himself and got out of the bath, sloshing water all over the floor and walked dripping back out into the foyer, the hostess glaring at him as he exited the bathhouse. Should he try now? It certainly would be unexpected. He wanted to be more spontaneous, like Kharis suggested, and take her by surprise. She might like that.

Hide. He needed to hide. There was a grove of trees near the bathhouse, an orchard likely belonging to the inn. The trees weren’t especially dense, but the sun was setting and it would be easy enough to hide in the dark.

It was over an hour before Kharis came out of the bathhouse. She was alone, thankfully, and looking around with concern, likely for him. It was understandable; DuMont usually stuck close to Kharis in unfamiliar places.

“DuMont?” She called. “Where’d you go?”

DuMont purposefully snapped a twig, catching Kharis’s attention. She spun around and looked into the orchard, squinting, and moved away from the lantern light.

“Is that you?” She asked as she walked forward.

DuMont let a low, quiet, guttural snarl issue from his throat, shifting his weight carefully. Kharis’s brow furrowed and she laid a hand on the hilt of her short sword. DuMont moved forward slowly, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He had to admit, this was kind of fun.

“Show yourself!” She said. “I’m armed!”

DuMont snarled again, a little louder this time. Kharis started backing away, beginning to draw her weapon.

Now.

DuMont rushed out of the shadows of the orchard, snatching Kharis by the waist and throwing her over his shoulder, making her squeak in surprise, and began to scale the tall bathhouse building, digging his claws into the stone.

“DuMont!” She shrieked, smacking his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

DuMont didn’t answer, just continued to climb the wall up toward the roof. As he pulled himself up, he dropped her unceremoniously, pulling rope from his waist pack. Kharis watched in confusion as he tied her hands up, behind, and down to her legs.

“DuMont, what are you doing?” She asked, a slight smile on her face.

“Taking your advice,” He replied, a deep growl to his words.

Her eyebrows raised, intrigued. “Well, I’m glad, but how are you going to get my clothes off if I’m tied up like this?”

He took hold of her tunic with his hands and ripped it open down the front, exposing her breasts to the air. Her skin smelled of the rose and cardamom soap she had used.

“Oh,” Kharis said. “Well, then.”

He put her on the ground and sniffed down her body, growling low like an animal stalking prey. She bit her lip and squirmed a little. DuMont pressed his nose in between her legs and took a deep breath before taking the fabric in his teeth and ripping it, tearing a ragged hole

“Oh, fuck,” He rasped. “That’s so fucking hot.”

His tongue came out and licked a large swipe up and down, and she strained against the ropes, squealing. She was swollen and pulsing against his tongue, and he could tell she was enjoying herself.

With one hand, he picked her up and carried her to the ledge, where there was a large decorative gargoyle looking down over the courtyard. He placed her face down on top of it, so that she could see the courtyard. The way the light was directed by the lanterns, she could see down, but people couldn’t see her. Probably.

Holding her down with his hand, he plunged his tongue inside her and contracted it over and over, in and out, up and down. She moaned loudly, and DuMont answered with a snarl. The entire lower half of her body was inside his jaws, and while he knew he wouldn’t hurt her, he had to admit that the hint of danger was thrilling.

Her hips moved in time with his strokes until she lay her face down against the stone and just whimpered in pleasure. Before she could recover, he withdrew his jaws and lined himself up with her entrance, thrusting in hard.

She howled, making as much noise as she could, reveling in the feeling of him inside of her and the idea of being overheard by anyone down below. She’d always loved the idea of being almost caught.

She began to quiet down to a faint whimpering, and the interior of her body flexed and contracted as she climaxed around his cock. He slowed to let her draw out the orgasm, and then sped up again, thrusting so hard that her body rocked to and fro on the back of the gargoyle. He pulled out, flipped her onto her back, and pulled her up against him, holding her in the air and pumping into her, moving her on him, using her body as she told him to. He granted her, it did feel amazing.

Her head was thrust back and she grunted with her teeth clenched, her eyes closed. Her face was flushed, a vein bulging in her neck, and she was sweating all down her body.

“Are you--” He began, but she opened her eyes and snarled, “Don’t you fucking dare ask if I’m okay,” and he shut his mouth.

He thrust and thrust vigorously, with more force than he normally used, until her body went completely stiff and she was gasping for air, then went limp in his arms. He slowed his movement to a crawl, giving her a moment to recover, before driving himself back in again, full-speed, not giving her a chance to regain speech. She strained against her restraints, not as though she wanted to be free of them, but in a manner that suggested she was trying to contract and stretch with pleasure, the muscles in her stomach and legs rigid and hard. Her face was red with exertion and sweat poured off her body.

“Cum,” She grunted at him. “Cum for me. Do it.”

He snapped his hips against hers faster still, the rise of ecstasy building in him quickly, and he roared as he released inside her. He had to be careful not to drop her as he felt himself pop finally, gushing and shooting into her. As such, he did manage to lay her down before collapsing. As exhausted as he was, he used his claws to snap the ropes free and let her body completely relax under him.

“Is that what you wanted?” He asked breathlessly.

“Shush,” She replied faintly. “Let me bask in the afterfuck.”

They lay there together on the cool bricks of the roof, the evening air blowing lazily over their flushed, overheated skin.

Eventually, Kharis pushed on DuMont’s shoulder and he rolled off and lay next to her. She sighed contentedly.

“Yes, to answer your question,” She said. “That was undoubtedly the best lay I have ever had in my life. I didn’t think you had that in you, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“I wasn’t too rough?” He asked.

“No, not at all,” She said. “It was perfect. Just what I needed.” She rolled on her side and looked up at him. “You weren’t uncomfortable with doing it, were you?”

“No,” He replied. “I was uncertain I was doing what you wanted and worried I was hurting you. Did I?”

She shook her head. “I think if you had gone any harder than you did, you might’ve, but it was great.”

“Good,” He said, satisfied. “The hunting and stalking part was really fun, I enjoyed that very much.”

She laughed. “You startled me, certainly, but it was fun. Next time we’re camping in the woods, we should have ourselves a nice game of hide and seek.”

“I would like that,” He said.

“Well,” She said, hopping to her feet. “I’m starting to get cold, and my clothes are…” She looked over at the shreds of her tunic and trousers. “Well, unwearable. Can you give me a lift down to the ground?”

“But you’re naked.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got spares in my bag downstairs.”

“But you’re naked.”

She snorted. “It’s not the first time I’ve walked nude through an inn before and it likely won’t be the last. Just get me down.”

He obliged, lifting her onto his back and scaling back down the wall. Kharis drew a lot of stares as she made her way through the common area of the inn. Like normal, DuMont was too large to get into the inn, but he watched Kharis from the door to make sure she didn’t run into trouble.

Norman, Sanoh, and Rupert were sitting and drinking, staring at Kharis as she strode through the room, though Sanoh caught sight of DuMont at the door and smirked, winking at him.

If he ever needed advice in the future, he definitely knew who to ask.

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Tiefling #Elf #Kobold #D&D #Dungeons and Dragons #D&D Fanfic

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themagicmistress · 3 years

Text

Heere’s an excerpt from the first draft of ‘Flowers, Soft Beneath My Heels.’ Scrapped most of it, but I liked this scene! Soo, here it is

Rumblecusp is a nice place. The sky is clear and has been most of the days they’ve been here. The air is still and windless save the light breezes that simply ruffle the tree leaves.

Despite the relative peace of the environment, which on any other day would be idyllic, her view of the town is one of slight chaos, and in a different way than it had been last night. People are angry, stone-faced and yelling at each other, faces darkened with rage. Yelling is fine. She has a feeling they’re just doing it to do something instead of nothing in their situation. Some, however, wander through the village with lost faces, looking pleadingly up at the sky as if for answers. It has none to give them, she knows. The Moonweaver has said her piece.

But Yasha’s not looking for trouble, or any of the previous followers of the not-god. She peers curiously around the village, trying to call back to mind the location Anola had told her to go looking for.

She has to knock on a few doors and then awkwardly backtrack as she’s met with more than one tear-streaked face until Yasha finds an older man with a long wispy beard and weary black eyes.

“No alcohol here,” he says roughly and goes to slam the door. She wedges her toe between it and the frame before he can. His eyebrows fly nearly to his hairline. “Of course,” says the man she really hopes is Kresh, “I could always reconsider.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Yasha reassures and he leans back from her a bit. “I’m not going to hurt you,” She says more insistently and Kresh nods quickly. She stifles a sigh. “Look, I’m just looking to buy something nice for a friend and Anola said you were the person to go to.”

The pressure on her foot lessens and the door swings open. “Oh,” his face is sheepish, “Something sweet, right?”

“Yes,” Yasha tells him. Her heels ache and her heart’s still hopping a half-beat too fast from the earlier scare. She wants to be safe beneath the protection of the dome, her friends breathing warm beside her.

The candies are twenty-five gold, a bit more than mainland prices, but well worth it.

She sticks her head into the dome and there’s a second of relief as she sees them all sitting next to each other, not having moved an inch.

“Jester?” Yasha makes sure her voice is quiet with Beau leaning against Caleb’s shoulder, the two of them having dozed off. “Can I talk to you?”

Jester looks up from underneath Fjord’s arm, who doesn’t appear to notice his own slow attempts to pull her closer. “Sure, what do you want?”

She hesitates. “Just about stuff. Stuff that happened today.” The cleric’s face falls and for a second Yasha feels bad but she didn’t want Nott or the others to bug the tiefling about the candies.

“Oh. Coming.”

They don’t go far from the dome, Jester’s steps short and hurried. She’s also reluctant to go far, to stray more than she needs to.

Yasha pulls out the small sack out and hands it to her. “Here. I thought you’d like these and I also thought you’d prefer to not share, so… here I am giving them to you away from the others.”

The moment Jester figures out what the rock-like amber stones are, her face lights up. “Yasha!” she gasps, and her face breaks into a grin, “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, and tonight was a lot. So.” She rubs the back of her neck. “You deserve it.”

Jester pops one into her mouth and groans and her stomach does a split-second drop as she thinks oh-no-I-messed-up before she realizes it’s a happy noise.

“These are so good!” Jester shoves the bag back into her hands, “They’re really sweet and sorta crunchy at the same time. Holy cow, I can’t believe you got these here, Yasha, because when we leave I’m never gonna be able to get them again.” Her words are a little garbled with the candy in her mouth, but then she gives a pointed look to the bag. “What are you waiting for, are you going to eat one already or not?”

“They’re for you,” she refutes.

“Yeah, but I want you to have one, so eat it,” she tells her flatly. Yasha eats the candy.

It’s a little caramelly and it melts in her mouth, with tiny hints of vanilla, all flavours she only knows because of Jester. It spreads in her teeth, sticky but pleasing, and in the center is a hard middle she discovers is a nut as she grinds it between her molars.

The tiefling’s fingers are deft, plucking candy after candy from the bag. They don’t shake and her friend’s demeanor remains unbothered by the night’s events.

What had her face looked like, fingers clenched around green robes, eyes teary toward liquid moonlight? She can only see what Jester shows her now. Someone delighted, maybe a little too delighted, by a simple gift of confectionery. Yasha only knows how she felt, watching a friend drift into the sky, glittering with chains like early morning dew on spiderwebs. Her pulse drumming in her ears, a war drum, teeth clenched, sword clenched, and useless.

Would that she could fell a god for her friend, but Yasha has never been able to claim herself saviour.

“Wanna ‘nother?” Jester offers, face curious now. She swallows. “How are you, Yasha?”

She blinks, taken aback. “I’m fine. Jester, are you okay? That’s— that was a lot up there.”

The answer is immediate. “I’m—” Jester stops. Frowns. “I’m fine too. You don’t need to worry about me, Yasha. I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

That’s one way of looking at it. She got what she wanted, so all the other stuff, herself gone forever, separated from her friends, the Traveler, didn’t matter. A rationalization, driven by necessity, like the kind Yasha made in battle. Help Beau before she’s impaled on those spikes below her instead of helping Fjord, it’s fine Caduceus is right there next to him, and don’t waste any effort on that last guy Caleb’s about to torch. A different kind of survival, the kind where you swath your hurts in anything that makes it stop just so that the raw and aching parts of you can shrivel and die inside your chest. Whether that means smiles or bloody fists.

“I don’t think you wanted this,” she says softly. “Things suck. And they’re going to keep being like that.”

Jester’s lips press together very tightly. She doesn’t look at her. Yasha has never thought of any of her friends as delicate, but now, she thinks that’s the problem. They’re strong. All of them. Strong enough to fight false gods and save villages and reverse death. Strong enough to face horrors most would never dream, and then lose. Someday, she fears they’ll go charging in somewhere they shouldn’t, into a chamber of laughing mouths, swallowing her whole. A clouded night and a clear moon leaving them devastated beneath it, one less to their number.

Not tonight. But it was close enough that her mind instinctively shies away from it.

“You ever think that maybe you put too-high expectations on someone without knowing it,” Jester says, breaking the silence. She tugs at the sleeves of her high-priestess outfit, “And then they try to live up to what you want them to be, but they can’t and then it goes wrong and you know that when it does it’s because of you and kind of really your fault? Like you were the one to set them up for failure in the first place?” It all comes out in a rush, her voice wobbling on the edge of tears as she rambles. “D’you ever feel like that, Yasha?”

There’s a tumultuous set to the lines of her mouth, pulled back into a grimace, too stiff for smiling, too desperate for frowning. What do you say to something like that and how can she say it with Jester looking at her like she knows the answer to her question, the plea she’s making. How do I make it right?

She licks her lips, still sticky-sweet.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

“I know,” she whispers. And then, softly, an admission of guilt, “but I would have left you guys. I would have.” Jester chuckles. “How did this happen? I didn’t mean— I mean, how did I even make him a god?”

Yasha doesn’t know anymore than she does how to make Jester feel better now. To reassure her this wasn’t her fault, at its core, none of it. “I don’t know.”

“No. That’s alright.” No words have ever sounded so small.

She thinks of Zuala. She’s always thinking, at least a little, about Zuala, but right now she thinks of her pulling them up the side of a hill, a little ways away from the tribe, about the way her fingers had fit neatly between Yasha’s own and how the last thing she remembers before leaving Xhorhas is the sound of thunder.

“You ever think,” Yasha repeats slowly, “people choose to leave because of you? Or not you personally, but because of your decisions, the choices you make. And when you think back, you realize if you had done something different, they might not have chosen to leave at all?” Jester listens in rapt silence and then her mouth opens into a horrified little ‘o’ and Yasha forges on. “And then, if they’re going to leave, should I just go first so I don’t have to watch them do it?”

“Yasha, we’re not going to leave you,” Jester says, almost demanding, voice cracking with the remnants of tears swallowed back.

“No, I know. But I’ve always left you guys,” She says, the night cold against the back of her throat. “And today, you almost left us. You weren’t going to come back from that. We would have gone to get you, but would you have tried to come back to us?”

“Of course!”

“Even if it meant leaving behind the Traveler?” Yasha asks, “Even if it meant letting him take his punishment?”

Jester bites her lower lip and Yasha watches as a brief conflict plays out across her body, fists clenching and unclenching. “That’s not a fair question. I can’t answer that.” She says it like an apology.

Yasha takes a breath and accepts it. She expects nothing less from her, the girl who painted flowers in her room, who stakes her whole self on what she would do for her friends.

She can taste iron and bitter wind like dread in her mouth. “That’s okay. Just— just don’t leave in the first place. We would be sad without you. I’m not even sure what we would do. Probably just mope around all day. Get nothing done.” There’s a ring of truth to the words that hit too close to home to be even remotely funny.

Then, there are arms around her, enveloping and warm. “I’m not going anywhere.” The words are muffled against her chest, likely to hide the quiet sound of rasping around more tears.

“Don’t leave,” Yasha says.

“Do you think,” Jester asks, “ having to ask all these questions is worth it because at least now I have more family to keep worrying about?”

There used to be a hollow in her heart, one that now purrs in some kind of satisfaction and she allows it it’s victory. “Yeah. In a weird way, I’m kind of glad to have someone to leave.” The arms grow tighter around her and Yasha squeezes back comfortingly. “I don’t want to, don’t get me wrong, but if I didn’t have anyone to leave,” She hesitates, “I’d just be running away. If I leave, I know someone will miss me. I would exist in my absence.”

“I would miss you. Beau would definitely.” Jester pulls back, the rim of her eyes a little darker than before.

Her lips curve into a smile without her prompting, though she can’t quite bring herself to care. ““I have no plans to go anywhere unless it’s where the rest of you are all headed.”

“Good.”

The cleric is stiller, and though she hadn’t seemed outright distraught in the dome earlier, now she seems steadier. A port in the storm rather than the raging waves themselves, standing firm instead crashing out and into herself over and over.

“Does asking these questions help you usually?”

Jester shows the nearly-empty velvet bag of candy to Yasha who notices she has to almost unclench her fingers from their stiff position around it. “Not nearly as much as the candies.”

“You think,” she echoes in a mimicry of their earlier conversation, “you’re ready to head back?”

“Yeah. Yasha?” Jester asks, tucking away the little bag.

“Thank you.”

“You’re important to me,” Yasha tells her and finds a little more joy in the soft smile that graces Jester’s mouth as she does. “Thank you for staying.”

She keeps her eyes on her friend’s back, her steps not quite the light skip they are usually, but lighter now. A part of her wishes she could take their group and bundle them away from the world, cruel and unfair to the best of them. Another part looks at the sea line, just barely visible over the tips of forest trees, and wonders how long into the night she would have to trek to make it there before the others wake. If Yasha squints, she can see a tiny light somewhere between the waves. A lighthouse on the shore, maybe, or a star touching down where the horizon meets the sea.

Ahead of her, Jester runs her fingers through the little velvet bag Yasha had given her over and over again like she can’t help but remind herself of the gift. A smile still rests on her lips.

#critical role #yasha nydoorin #jester lavorre #the mighty nein #fanfic #dialogue heavy #my fic #cr

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