#Critical Role fic

[elle-thereafter]

Perc'ahlia Smut Fic Recs

After S3E3 of The Legend of Vox Machina dropped the stats on my smut fics jumped overnight which was entertaining. Which strongly indicates a lot of you are looking for some sweet Perc'ahlia smut to follow-up the delights provided to us by the animated series.

Myself and some folks from the Perc'ahlia Week Discord server are very happy to provide a list of our favourites. Some of these (including some of their summaries and tags below) will contain spoilers beyond tLoVM S3E3 so tread lightly into the cut if you care deeply about spoilers. Assume every single one of the fics below contains explicit sex between Percy and Vex. I've included the AO3 summary and the helpful Additional Tags from AO3 to help you zoom in on your favourite thinigs and avoid the things you're less fond of.

After Dinner by Lycaboros

Summary: Vex has some definite ideas for this evening's activities. AO3 Tags: Sex Toys, Toys, Riding Crops, Teasing, Orgasm Delay/Denial

Bathing for Fun and Profit by ViciousRhythm

Summary: The bath sex we all know happened and the sex on a pile of money that Vex'ahlia deserves. AO3 Tags: spoilers for episode 81, Bath Sex, Incredibly self indulgent, sex on a pile of money, PWP

the beast you've made of me by seimaisin

Summary: Vex finds herself transported to her very first Wild Hunt. Percy and Orthax are determined to make her first time a memorable one. AO3 Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Werewolf Sex, Tentacles, Bondage, Animal Transformation, Chases, Dominance, Consensual Non-Consent, Erotic Horror

before those hands pulled me from the earth by worth_the_risk

Summary: Vex knew the gods were still living, sequestered behind the Divine Gate as they may be. She knew their interactions with those who still walked Exandria were limited, but purposeful. She had never had reason to thank any of them. Now, she may have to consider it. AO3 Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Explicit Consent, Risk Waxes Poetic About Scar Tissue Again, Past Character Death, Canon Compliant, If you're here from TLoVM and have not listened to C1 here there be spoilers, Scars, Cunnilingus, Love Confessions, Campaign 1 Spoilers through Episode 72-74-ish?, Vaginal Sex

charmeause by anonymous

Summary: Percy takes the material of the hem between his fingers and absently feels at the embroidery, eyes locked onto her and her scrunched nose of confusion. “When you said you’d be right back, my mind had gone to those little rabbit slippers, not… lingerie.” AO3 Tags: Lingerie, PWP, Cunnilingus, Post-Canon, established marriage, Gratuitously sweaty Percy, Stripping, Houston they're in LOVE, Blow Jobs, Light Dom/sub, Fluff and Smut

Comparative Anatomy by Shippeh

Summary: Percy drags Keyleth to a frat party on an errand to find numbers for a project, and ends up discovering something (or someone) a lot more interesting. AO3 Tags: College AU

Control by subtropicalStenella

Summary: Percy needs to sleep, and take better care of himself, but he's also a stubborn bastard and needs to be tricked into it. AO3 Tags: Dirty Talk, Mutual Masturbation, Fantasizing, Multiple Orgasms, Erotic Electrostimulation, Prostate Milking, Overstimulation, Praise Kink

Courage To Go On by subtropicalStenella

Summary: It's That Scene, because we love to fill in fade-to-blacks and I love the powerplay of "I open the door, COMPLETELY NAKED." but also I love damaged people and working through that damage. AO3 Tags: First Time, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Desk Sex, Light Dom/sub, Light Bondage, Introspection, deliberately ignoring that introspection, Banter as Foreplay

darling, so it goes (some things are meant to be) by mischiefseven

Summary: It's the night before the fight with Vorugal, and Vex has left too much unsaid for far too long. AO3 Tags: Past Character Death, Love Confessions, Life-Affirming Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Debauchery by ladyofrosefire

Summary: If one knows where to look, there is a shop in Emon where one can find all manner of delightful things. Vex lures Percy into it one afternoon while they’re in the city for business. Or: Percy gets pegged. AO3 Tags: Pegging, Sex Toys

Deifying (flew like a moth to you, sunlight) by ladyofrosefire

Summary: Percy and Vex share a lazy morning shortly after their return from Pandemonium. AO3 Tags: Episode: the Search for Bob Spoilers, Cunnilingus, sun freckles, mild blasphemy, Morning Sex

Disciple by ladyofrosefire

Summary: Vex has a new house, new boots, and a very attractive partner who wants to please her in every way he can. That's a recipe for an excellent night. AO3 Tags: BDSM, Dom/sub, light boot worship, Cunnilingus, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Domme!Vex, Riding, Praise Kink, Fellatio, Verbal Bondage, Aftercare, PWP

everyone can see (few can test by feeling) by mischiefseven

Summary: Vex needs distraction. Percy is delighted to oblige. AO3 Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Inappropriate Use of 16th Century Italian Literature

everything has changed (and now it's only you that matters) by rozegold

Summary: Vex takes care of Percy after his second brush with death. AO3 Tags: Blow Jobs, Post-Chroma Conclave

The Feathers in Her Hair by pagerunner

Summary: When Vex starts making changes to the distinctive feathers she wears, Percy begins to suspect she's sending him a sign. Perc'ahlia fic, written between episodes 62 and 63, but without specific spoilers. AO3 Tags: None

A Game of Later by thereafter

Summary: An evening at the opera escalates. Some things are better left unresolved, at least for a little while. Shameless smut, in three acts. AO3 Tags: Cock Warming, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Public Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn IS the plot, Vex'ahlia is a Little Shit, Percival is also a Little Shit, they are both little shits

Get your hands dirty by umwelt

Summary: It’s not his handwriting. He hasn’t seen ink in weeks, too scrapped for coin for the luxury. The P starting at the base of his hand, affording the traitor his distinction, his name eating up the space of the pad of Percy’s left thumb. Opens his palm. Yes - on the inside of each finger, a name: Doctor Ripley. Lord Briarwood. Lady Briarwood. Sir Kerrion Stonefell. AO3 Tags: Whump, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Percival "Percy" de Rolo III Has Issues, Traumatized Percival "Percy" de Rolo III, Campaign 1, Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe, Percy is the pact weapon AU, Magical Tattoos, me: so. tattoos hot. percy hot. the list hot. what if… all three??, Mild Gore, Injury Recovery, Magical Prosthetic. sort of., henna, Rated for smut in last chapter, Comfort Sex, Woman on Top, None of the angsty tags apply to the sex, Follows Campaign 1 with some extra TLOVM ~flavor~ in places

Grey by percivalium

Summary: There’s a rumble of gruff voices at the table as various other diplomats react to Daventine’s outburst. Silverware clatters, glasses and crystal goblets tink and the general hubbub of the biannual trade route summit create a very unique mashup of noises in the dining hall. And Vex’ahlia couldn’t give a single shit about any of it. AO3 Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex, Quickie, Sneaking Away to Fuck During Dinner, Established Relationship

hard to talk (when i'm with you) by percahlia

Summary: Percy's pretty sure at this point that his wife's favorite hobby is showing up and knocking the breath out of him, one way or another. AO3 Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Blow Jobs, Desk Sex, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, domestic sex, Post-Canon, Semi-Public Sex

Have some fun tonight by steelneena

Summary: Ever since that night at the lake, Percy and Vex have made a habit of getting carried away rather often. But it’s really whose house – and more importantly, whose bedroom within said house - they’re in that makes things…tenuous for Percy. It just so happens to be Vex’s dad’s house. And they just so happen to be Vex’s dad’s bed. In Percy’s defense, Vex hadn’t exactly told him until it was too little too late. AO3 Tags: Early 2000's aesthetic college halloween party, to keep with the theme, Mirror Sex, Accidental Voyeurism, brief mention of recreational drugs, Percy is relatively inexperienced still, Vex is very loving, Vaginal Sex, Biting, Dom/sub Undertones, stupid halloween jokes and passtimes, may have been lightly influenced by Scream, Playful Sex, love is best kink

How the Other Half Lives by sabinelagrande

Summary: Percy knows what he likes. He thinks so, anyway. AO3 Tags: Femdom, Dom Vex'ahlia, Dom Percy de Rolo, Sub Percy de Rolo, Under-negotiated Kink, Floor Sex, Self-Discovery, 094-e095 Timeskip, Dom/sub

If You Wanna Be Mine by ViciousRhythm

Summary: For all that Percy can sometimes be really eloquent, he's sometimes really…not. AO3 Tags: Car Sex, just barely touches on dom/sub dynamics, Modern AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Humor

I'll Shout From the Mountains (Love Looks Good on You) by Aesthetic_Pigeon

Summary: Vex is tired of Percy working late into the night and decides to set things right. AO3 Tags: Episode: c01e095 One Year Later…, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Praise Kink, Coming In Pants, Percival "Percy" de Rolo III Has a Tremor, Idiots in Love

Insight Check by percivalium

Summary: Grey Hunt patrols are long, a bit tedious and solitary. Vex'ahlia must find ways to entertain her brain while performing her Grey Hunt duties out in the Parchwood. One defiantly un-ladylike thought may have caused her some brainrot… and she needs to find a certain Lord of Whitestone to make it a reality. Hopefully he believes her when she claims otherwise. AO3 Tags: Episode: c01e095 One Year Later…, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Some Plot, Surprise Blowjob, Torn Clothing, Manual stimulation, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Desk Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Clothes-on Sex, Doggy Style, Hair-pulling, Consensual Kink, Top!Percy, Vex Hands Over the Reins, Ball Massage, Praise Kink, Implied Consent, Mutual Masturbation, Hand Jobs

I wanna make you hungry (then I want to feed you) by writerthewriter

Summary: Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III was not a religious man, yet for one so faithless, he spent an awful lot of time on his knees dedicated to worship. aka the one where percy really loves going down on his wife. AO3 Tags: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, percy likes going down on his wife, Vaginal Fingering, Masturbation, Face-Sitting, Light D/s Dynamics

Jumping the Gun by LadyOfSnakes

Summary: Percival has done something very stupid and very dangerous. Vex is not okay with this. Spoilers through episode 73. AO3 Tags: First Time, Angry Sex, Oral Sex, Explicit Consent

A Lesson in Manners by pagerunner

Summary: Vex may usually be the one to call the shots where intimate matters are concerned, but that isn't to say that Percy doesn't have his own ideas. This one might prove to be especially captivating. Spoiler warning for a couple details post-episode 94/early 100s. AO3 Tags: None

Lost in the Woods with You by Her_Madjesty

Summary: When Percy stumbles away from the group, it’s…mostly by accident. AO3 Tags: Sex Pollen, Feywild Arc, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex

Point Made by sabinelagrande

Summary: An argument is interrupted. AO3 Tags: Post-Chroma Conclave, Vaginal Fingering, Percy makes that +6 DEX work for him

Press by modal_contingency

Summary: Vex is unfailingly good at reading people, and Percy can be the easiest of reads. AO3 Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Dom/sub, Dirty Talk, Begging, Breathplay

The Private Games We Play by pagerunner

Summary: After game night ends, Vex and Percy decide to delve more deeply into what went on during their explorations of a certain tavern cellar. Yes, this means pretty much what you're thinking. Set just after the post-episode-115 one-shot helmed by Grog. AO3 Tags: Post-Campaign, Grog's one-shot, the meta is strong with this one, and i should not be entrusted with such inappropriate interpretations of game mechanics

A Private Vex Tape by inheritanceofgeek

Summary: Percy has been at the International Convention for Technological Innovation for 4 days and is already going stir crazy with how much he misses his wife. Lucky for him, Vex'ahlia is an innovative woman who misses him just as much as he misses her. And hey, what are webcams for if not to record home made sex tapes? AO3 Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Sex Tapes, Mutual Masturbation, Sex Toys, Vibrators, Married Life, Mentions of Taryon Darrington, That 7 hour time difference hurts me too, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Fluff and Smut

Put your arms around me, baby by steelneena

Summary: He's not quite sure how he ended up here. He, Percival de Rolo, of all people, who hadn’t wanted to stay in Emon for the summer, who’d wanted to go back home after his year exchange ended, remain cooped up in his room at home with his experiments and his books, was naked in a lake at night, kissing a beautiful woman – also naked – in his lap who could, if he was quite honest, do far better that his wiry, nerdy, early-gone-white self. AO3 Tags: Skinny Dipping, First Time, Hand Jobs, Virgin Percy, Love Confessions, Modern AU, kind of a college au, slight D/s overtones, love is kink, Enthusiastic Consent

remember me love, when i'm reborn by worth_the_risk

Summary: After Elysium, before the Core Anvil, before - well, before. AO3 Tags: Campaign 1, Spoilers through C1E106: The Endless Atheneum, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Life-Affirming Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Established Relationship, Introspection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, anticipatory grief

Respite for the Restless by pagerunner

Summary: It's been a difficult, troubling day. Sometimes the best you can do is reach for each other. Percy/Vex vignette, set at the mansion after episode 106. AO3 Tags: None

Satin and sweat by umwelt

Summary: Vex bites Percy’s lip in the hopes he gets the message. His fingers slow, only movement at all because she can feel every twitch deep in her cunt. Sorry - she, the lady robbed in a magpie’s iridescent blacks and whites, hostess of the soirée, bites the lip of this bespectacled owl of a man in the hopes he gets the message. It is a masquerade, after all, and one should keep up appearances. AO3 Tags: Campaign 1, Could be an AU could be canon compliant who knows!, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Vaginal Fingering, Hand & Finger Kink, Quickies, Semi-Public Sex, Clothed Sex, Shameless Smut

scarcely can speak for my thinking (what you'd do to me tonight) by worth_the_risk

Summary: “Is it terrible that we are abandoning our best friend’s first state birthday dinner?” The airy tone of her voice suggested she had already divined precisely how she felt about it. “I think Keyleth will forgive us for the excursion, if she even notices our absence.” AO3 Tags: Secret Marriage, Quickies, Cunnilingus, Blow Jobs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Campaign 1, Spoilers through Episode 95: One Year Later…, Spoilers for The Legend of Vox Machina, Vaginal Sex, Established Relationship, Competency Kink

Second Watch by threepwillow

Summary: Depleted spell slots and some near-death experiences leave an abridged, mansionless Vox Machina camping out under the stars; but now Vex'ahlia's husband is in a mood, and who knew gnomes were such light sleepers? AO3 Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Hand & Finger Kink, That 22 Dexterity Tho, Post-Canon

Seen by subtropicalStenella

Summary: Percy acts smooth but it's a mask over an excitable, anxious dork and we love him for it AO3 Tags: Teasing, Cock Tease, Prostate Massage, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Percy has some internalized prudishness and it's adorable, and he's an anxious dork, Dirty Talk, Masturbation, Titfuck

someone ought to corrupt you on the dance floor by blackglass

Summary: It's Senior Week and the twins' birthday and Vox Machina is headed to the club to celebrate. With only a week left until they all graduate and go their separate ways, Vex decides she's done with wondering "what if?" Percy is not prepared for what's about to hit him. AO3 Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Porn with Feelings, Racebending, Everyone in Vox Machina is multiracial, except percy, Palest white boy to ever be a pale white boy, Background Vax/Gilmore, Background Kash/Keyleth, Clubbing, Grinding

Spoiled by thereafter

Summary: Percy schemes. Vex'ahlia is spoiled. AO3 Tags: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, Mirror Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay, Porn with Feelings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Softdom Percy, Vex Gets Spoiled

Stand and Deliver by ladyofrosefire

Summary: Percy really just wants to get ravished by a famous outlaw. Vex. He means Vex. AO3 Tags: Sexual Roleplay, Gun Kink, Outdoor Sex, Consensual Kink, Consensual Non-Consent

the sweetest distractions by rozegold

Summary: Coaxing Percy out of his workshop is something Vex has become very good at over the years, but sometimes she has to fight dirty for his own good. AO3 Tags: Fluff and Smut, Domestic smut, Happily Married Banging, Several Years Post-Campaign, Vex In Percy's Coat, Unconventional Usage of Percy's Workshop

take a step that is new by Griftings

Summary: Or, the one where Vex is enthusiastic, Percy is unsure, and… well, basically there's a threesome. With Jarett. AO3 Tags: Fluff and Smut, Crack, Threesome - F/M/M, PWP, Sort Of, like there's sort of a plot but it's honestly almost entirely just sex

Taking a Break by Lycaboros

Summary: Percy is TRYING to get some work done. It's not working very well for him. AO3 Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Interrupted Sex, Rough Sex, Desk Sex, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, post campaign one, Edging

a teaching moment by rozegold

Summary: Percy's eager to branch out and, well, how can Vex say no to that? AO3 Tags: Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Strap-Ons, Vex Teaches Percy About Blow Jobs, Finger Sucking, Percy's Got A Bit Of An Oral Fixation

under your moonlit gaze by seimaisin

Summary: Vex, Percy, the hot springs, and sex. With a brief interruption from Scanlan. AO3 Tags: Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot

Unwind already by unknownlifeform

Summary: Percy gets pegged by Vex for the first time. Things that help this activity: Percy relaxing and unclenching. Things Vex has to coax Percy into doing: AO3 Tags: Pegging, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Established Relationship, First Time Bottoming, Porn with Feelings, they are in love your honorand also they are silly!!, this is a being stupid during sex propaganda account, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot

we are learning to make fire by mischiefseven

Summary: The citizens of Whitestone celebrate Winter’s Crest. Their lord and lady have a much more personal celebration of their own. AO3 Tags: Married Sex, Desk Sex, Cunnilingus, newlyweds, Fluff, Consensual Kink, Explicit Consent

whatever you do (do it for me, baby) by mischiefseven

Summary: Percy finds something that belongs to Vex. After testing, he takes it upon himself to make some improvements. AO3 Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Dildos, Mutual Masturbation, Pegging

what she wants by rozegold

Summary: Vex has discovered quite a lovely thing because of her relationship with Percy: ladies get what they want. Except sometimes, they don't. AO3 Tags: Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Vex Can Dish But She Can't Take, Percy Gets Some Payback

when the wicked play by seimaisin

Summary: Vex and Percy only know each other online, through their favorite video game. They're both taken by surprise when their flirty, competitive relationship turns into a long-distance erotic game. Except, it may not be as long-distance as they think, and Percy is definitely more than Vex realizes. His family's fame leads them to a real-life collision, and suddenly everything is way more complicated than it seemed on the internet … (abandoned but fun) AO3 Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Nude Photos, Online Friendship, Cybersex

you'll never know unless we go by sabinelagrande

Summary: Nothing about this goes right, but it's perfect. AO3 Tags: Rough Body Play, Rope Bondage, Resistance Play, Hair-pulling, Rough Sex, Maledom, Dom Percy de Rolo, Sub Vex'ahlia

[lakrisrot]

hold me tight (I wriggle)

references a spoiler for c3e96!

ficlet, 400 words, shadowgast

silly wizards for the soul

🐟

***

Essek’s head breaks the surface. He coughs, water trickling from his nose, three mouthfuls worth of it spilling down his chin.

“Breathe,” someone says, and he remembers to do so. His lungs sting as they confusedly fill with air. “No gills, you see,” the voice continues in a kind explanation, and Essek blinks dampness from his eyes and finds that the brown-beige blur in his vision is indeed his partner, looking handsome with his sleeves rolled up, sitting by the edge of the—water? Pool?

He wears an expression of patient amusement, and Essek instinctively raises his chin in defiant indignation, which is usually the correct response. It is made less effective by the water still up his nose.

“What are you doing?” Essek croaks, as calm as one can be when coming to consciousness in a hot tub—because he recognizes the interior of the Tower, now. Caleb raises a brow.

“Oh, you know. Just waiting for you.” He wiggles the book he’s holding open in his lap, one Fauna of Wildemount. “Feeling all right?”

“Yes, I am—“ Essek catches movement in his periphery, and pauses. Small, silvery fish dart through the water around him.

“Uehh,” he says, eloquently, struggling feebly to stand up. His robes are very wet.

“Oh, sorry, sorry.”

Hands reach out, finding Essek’s arms and gently pulling, helping him over the edge. Essek flops onto the floor much like a beached jellyfish.

“They were for you,” Caleb explains, draping a towel over Essek’s head and shoulders. A nonsensical gesture, since Essek’s robes are still very wet. “You stayed Polymorphed longer than I expected. I suspect the depth of our location fueled the wild magic of your misfire.”

Memory returns, distorted through foreign senses. Gasping, wriggling—so much wriggling, it felt nice to wriggle, important—and arms around him, holding on through it all.

Essek hides his face in the towel, angrily patting himself dry. “A Lightsdamned fish.”

“A Wildemount pink salmon, to be precise,” Caleb nods, “though you did not seem keen on the sand eels.”

“Who’s keen on sand eels,” grumbles Essek into the towel.

“Well,” Caleb begins, but seems to think better of it.

Peering out from his towel cocoon, Essek glares through damp lashes. “Please do not feed me eels nor plankton unless the circumstances are dire. But thank you for holding on to me.”

“Mmm. You are one slippery fucker,” Caleb says and kisses him square on the mouth.

“Well, you caught me,” Essek sighs and kisses him back.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

Hello! may I request any prompt of your choosing from the hurt/comfort list if I specifically ask for tlovm vaxleth? thank you!

10. "Don't worry about anything now."

It's cold in Whitestone, especially at night, but Keyleth doesn't feel it. Her body is warm, hot even, pressed back against Vax like this. His arm is draped over her, his chin hooked over her shoulder. Her naked shoulder. Because she's naked. They both are. Because they had sex.

Vax's breathing is slow and even, and Keyleth is working overtime to keep hers the same way. It's not that she's freaking out—she's not. Not really. Except her body is sore, pleasantly so, dully tingling in the memory of his hands on her, in her—oh, and while that was happening, the people of Whitestone were burying their dead. And Thordak was still burning Emon. And Raishan was probably plotting her inevitable betrayal. And Percy was lying in a tomb, surrounded by generations of deceased de Rolos. But oh gods, the things Vax's tongue can do.

She's a bad person. That has to be it. She gets together with Vax in their dead friend's home? While Vex is in mourning? Who does that? Sure, she was waiting for Vax to pull his head out of his ass long before Percy died, but still, she could have waited, should have waited, found a better moment, done everything differently—

"You're thinking so loud." Vax's voice is a sleepy rumble in her ear as his arm tightens around her.

She laughs nervously. "Sorry. Just, um. A lot to think about."

His nose trails lazily up the back of her neck. "Care to share?"

Now she's in a pickle. She can't tell him what she was really thinking about, because then he'll think she regrets sleeping with him, which she doesn't—at least, not like that. And she's always been so bad at lying. And if she says she's thinking about Percy, will he think she wishes he were here instead? Because wow, no. She has to lie. But say what—

"Kiki, seriously. If you think any louder you're going to wake up the whole castle."

"Was this a mistake?" She feels his body stiffen, and his arm starts to retract. Fully panicking now, she grabs his hand, uses it to tug herself around so she's on her back, where she can see his face. It's shell-shocked, hurt. "That is not what I meant. I don't—I don't regret this. I don't regret you. I promise, Vax."

His face softens a bit, but he's still regarding her skeptically. "I'm really struggling to find another interpretation here, Kiki."

"No, I know, I just meant—" She throws her forearm over her eyes so she doesn't have to look at him. "Percy is dead and Vex is heartbroken and Whitestone is in ruins again and we have to fight Thordak and Raishan is such a bitch and gods I am so behind on my Aramenté and really what right do I have to be happy with you when everything is terrible—"

He shuts her up by kissing her. His hand pulls her face closer to his, and her arm falls away from her eyes as she melts against his lips. For a moment, everything is quiet.

"Keyleth," he murmurs against her mouth. "You are beautiful and powerful and wise and so very, very silly."

"I'm not—"

"You are. There is no 'deserving' happiness. There is just...finding it. With our friends. With our families." His thumb traces little circles where his hand cups her jaw. "Here, in this bed, with you. You know, a very wise woman once pointed out to me how foolish it was to forgo current happiness for fear of future pain." He smirks at her. "I'd hate to see her forgo current happiness because she's guilty about the suffering of others."

Keyleth chews her lip. "But there are things we could be doing. People we could be helping."

"We can't help anyone if we're too exhausted to stand. C'mere." He gently spins her around again so that he's spooning her, her hand cupped in his, and yeah, the feeling of him behind her, warm and solid, does make the brain chatter quiet a bit. "Don't worry about anything now. We have so much time to worry, I promise you. All of the things you're concerned about will be there in the morning, and so will I." He kisses the nape of her neck. "I don't know what the future holds, but I can't imagine thinking about that when I have my favorite person in the world in my arms."

He squeezes her close, and Keyleth breathes in the arm, woodsy scent of him. Alright. Maybe he's right. Maybe the horrors will still be waiting come daylight. Maybe they can share this night, and the happiness it has brought them. She closes her eyes, and soon, she is dreaming of hundreds more nights, just like this.

[mintywolf]

Her unsteady glance about herself doesn’t catch on a blue damask evening gown, but everything is only a blur of unfocused shapes and bright colors. She draws in a stuttering gasp, and then another, as gradually her surroundings begin to resolve themselves into a bewilderingly comfortable living room and the oddest assortment of people she has ever seen. ... They all look worn and bone-weary, but alive with expectant joy. They are all staring at her intently. They are strangers. -- 33 years ago Matilda made a dying pact in the arms of her murderer. Now that pact lies sundered by a lightning strike, and her soul with it. Waking again in the arms of loving strangers who seem to regard her as family, she tries to put together the pieces of the life she can't remember and what she means to the people around her.

Remember Us, a story about memory (and its loss), fake marriage, real marriage, family, home, the passage of time, resurrection, and ears, is now complete!

(I never did manage to finish all the chapter illustrations I had planned to do but here are a few. Maybe more in the future!)

[ladynearthelake]

Bad Ending

The Feywild is beautiful.

Orym is aware of that objective truth as he sits atop the lofty boughs of Ligament Manor. Time remains a weird soup, and he isn’t sure just how much time has passed since the battle with Ludinus. For all he can actually remember of the event, he thinks it must have been centuries. But it can’t have been that long. The acute pain of loss is still present in his chest.

Covetous of her company, Nana Morri had extended Fearne’s life unnaturally. Orym knows the Fatestitcher enjoys his company, maudlin as he is. He wouldn’t put it passed her to do the same to him. Fearne still visits, but she had fallen in love with Exandria and the planes beyond. Orym relishes her visits, and tries not to hate her for leaving him when she flits away. His deal was his own choice. His chest aches. Nana’s bargain was sealed permanently over his heart when he returned. It shadows the other pain there, but cannot eclipse it completely.

The red moon is no longer in the sky in the Feywild, so Orym assumes that they defeated Ludinus. That brings him no comfort. He lost everything, so what does an averted apocalypse mean to him?

He remembers an elegant twirl of a familiar blue cape rushing forward. He remembers the world shattering around him as Dorian fell.

Orym’s memories grow soupy after that. With Dorian gone, nothing else could ever really matter, could it? He had only just managed to claw himself out of his choking grief for Will. He let himself think of a future beyond the battle. That had been his mistake. He should have known better than to look beyond the mission.

So, perhaps the battle was won, but Orym doesn’t really care if Exandria fell to ruin. His heart, impossibly, had been ripped out for the second time. Better to give the remains to Nana Morri. She could find a use for it.

Orym sits among the topiaries of broken promises and tries not to miss the moons in the sky.

He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but he startles when a familiar hand presses to his cheek.

“Orym?”

He smirks as his eyes open. It’s always good to see Fearne.

But she’s panicked. Tears are gathering in the corners of her eyes. Her face is streaked with red, both sticky and sandy. His brow furrows.

“Fearnie, are you alright?”

She sobs, holding his face firmly in her hands. “You have to come back to us. You have to. We won. You have to come back.”

His body is heavy, and he cannot move. This doesn’t make sense.

She’s here with him, isn’t she? He hasn’t gone anywhere in ages. He’s right here.

Another voice, so different than when he would hear it over the sending stone.

“Orym, please…” Dorian’s voice is exhausted and tight with pain. “You must come back. There’s still…still so much we need to say.”

He feels something stir behind Morri’s seal. His heart shudders.

Orym isn’t in the Feywild. This isn’t Ligament Manor. Fearne’s hands are gone from his cheeks, and Orym looks behind him. He sees a blossoming tree in twilight with a familiar, loved shadow standing beneath it. Will raises his hand in greeting, but makes no move to go towards Orym. They’ve spoken about this before.

“Not yet,” Will whispers in his ear.

Orym nods, his hand raising in return. “Soon.”

“But not too soon.”

His heart beats again, and he feels a hook behind his navel pull his being back through the planes. He coughs, hacking up blood and sand. The arcane fissure across his chest knits itself back together.

“Orym?”

Drips of wet plip against Orym’s cheeks. There’s a body hovering above him, radiating the warmth of the sun. The ashari can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth as he opens his eyes.

Dorian looms over him, tears rolling down his eyelashes as he stares. His cheeks are blotchy and purple. There’s a wide stain of crimson across his ragged sheer shirt doing little to hide the healed gash on his chest.

The sight of that hurt has Orym springing to his feet. He regrets the movement immediately, but only for a second. He crashes into Dorian’s arms.

“I…I don’t…” Orym stammers.

Fearne appears beside him, wrapping them both in her arms tightly.

“That was worse than the last time.”

Oh.

“I was dead?” Orym asks.

He feels Fearne’s head nod against his, and Dorian’s arms pull him in tighter.

“I thought you both were, but Dorian was only unconscious. You must have thought…” She trails off.

The memory is clear in his mind now. Dorian falling, and then an unyielding rage consuming his small form as he charged screaming at Ludinus.

“You distracted him while Imogen finished him off.”

“We did it?”

Fearne smiles. “We did it.”

Orym can feel Dorian shaking against him. He draws away slightly to look at his beautiful face.

“I told you that you didn’t have to save everyone,” Dorian says, fighting off tears.

“Old habits die hard,” Orym says, his eyes dropping from Dorian’s crystal eyes to his lips. “Didn’t seem to matter much anymore if you weren’t there to save.”

“Orym…that’s ridic—”

The world is safe. There’s no reason to resist anymore. Orym presses his lips to Dorian’s, quieting his protests. He feels Dorian startle at the contact, but then he melts into the kiss, gripping the back of Orym’s shirt.

Orym pulls away, feeling lighter than he has in years. The unrestrained happiness on Dorian’s face makes him giddy. There’s still so many unknowns, but he’s be happy to find his way with the wind in his arms.

[rainbowcaleb]

Instead of a new Ficlet Friday may I direct you to some fics you may be interested in for Reasons™️?

- Dorian and Orym experience magic (/neg) and magic (/pos). Heart Threads

- Fearne meets Jester - Girls Gone Feywild

- Fjorester wedding and m9 shenanigans, also wait— did Caleb and Essek—? Have they—? The Dancers and the Dreamers

[omcree]

Summary

“I’m talking about Imogen,” she said, looking down at her ring. “I’m talking about the fact that I’m completely, life-ruiningly in love with Imogen, and I don’t know how to deal with knowing that.“

-

Laudna has an epiphany. Laudna doesn’t cope with it well. A modern AU.

[wvearp]

Fifteen years ago, two best friends made a drunken pact to get married if they were still single at thirty five. Now, Laudna wants to make good on the agreement, and she’s prepared a list of reasons.

In case Imogen needs any extra convincing.

Imodna Marriage Pact AU, for the ITFC Fic Exchange 2024

[frogenthusiastt]

New Chapter! New Chapter!

(art by my companion in body horror @brookesmartt)

[mllekurtz]

There's a man Essek meets on the train every morning.

🏙️ modern au shadowgast one-shot 🚆 they’re commuters and they fall in love! 🛣️ 7k of moody, romantic vibes with a helping of existential crisis

[longlivedelusion]

An Interview with Jester Lavorre of the Mighty Nein

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sexual endeavors, mentions of death, and spoilers up until C3 Ep111.

A/N: Well this idea forced itself upon my brain after @chiakery made this request:

Jester's commentary on BH couples as she talks with Beau/Fjord/Sprinkle or just straight up goes to people in question, no filter (just like we love her) making them blush like mad/speak in innuendo with her/whatever feels right.

I know it's not exactly what you asked for, I'm sorry 😭 but this idea just took a hold of me and I knew I had to run with it. I hope you enjoy it anyways! I'll be including a part two with headcanon reactions from each couple.

I felt like after saving the world in a very public way, the Mighty Nein won't be able to stay as low-key as they used to be. But still weren't as like publicized as probably VM or BH. So I feel like Jester did this interview because she personally just loved this publication and wanted to be a part of it. So she found a way around that loll enjoy!

Hello everyone! Today I will be sharing an interview we just had with a very special guest: Jester Lavorre, Saviour of Exandria, Slayers of the Mind Weave, and Sapphire of the 5 Seas.

We're so lucky here at The Knowsy Cat to have an exclusive interview with one of the elusive members of the Mighty Nein. Known to avoid media and any sort of public attention, we were fortunate to have received an acceptance for an interview with Ms. Lavorre, soon to be Mrs. Tusktooth, an inside scoop we received from the woman herself.

But you can read more about that below.

The following is a full transcript from that conversation:

Ms. Lavorre! Thank you so much for agreeing to an interview with us. Your group is a hard one to catch on anyone's radar it seems. Any reason for that?

Well, first of all it's soon to be Mrs. Tusktooth thank you very much. But you can just call me Jester.

Congratulations! Is Mr. Tusktooth a part of your group or someone from back home perhaps? I don't recognize the name from any of our files.

Oh he's very very handsome and very sweet. And you can call him Captain Tusktooth, he has his own ship you know.

A Captain! Well, what a fine catch it seems. Then is he not of the Mighty Nein then, but simply a Captain of a ship?

Well why couldn't he be both?

Oh, I don't mean to offend! I'm just asking for clarification is all.

You know, so many people don't know I'm a First Mate of the ship! They just know me as the Savior of Exandria blah blah, but I do a lot of the pulling of anchors, and opening the sails, you know ship stuff. I'm very very strong. Like this one time, I had to carry this huuge minotaur named Braius out of a battle, and like he was super big you know? And I lifted him over my shoulders no problem!

Braius? Do you mean Braius Doomseed, Nascent Might of the Platinum's Call?

Yeah, yeah! That's him. Great artist, you should really check out his work. He draws some sexy stuff, if you know what I mean.

Oh we've seen it! He's become a pretty renown artist in Zadash it seems. Do you still talk to any of the Bells Hells, fellow saviors of Exandria?

Oh all the time! Like there's this girl Fearne who's a super hot fae, and I mean SUPER hot. She's made of fire and like can get really big, it's craazy. I talk to her all the time, she's so funny. Or I talk to the creepy spider lady, but usually through her girlfriend who I guess is kind of whatever. She does mind stuff too but like boring mind stuff.

Do you mean Imogen Temult and Laudna? Are they an item?

The BIGGEST item. They're like attached at the hip and constantly fucking. It's a bit awkward at first you know, having just met and everyone was sleeping like right next door to eachother. But the end of the world can make people do crazy stuff so who am I to judge!

How about Ms. Calloway? Is she currently involved with anyone?

I mean, she's kind of together with Ashton who's totally her other half you know? They got this hot, Titan thing going on. But she always tells me she's all about spreading her legs to fly, so they have an "open relationship." Like she had a threesome with the old wolf man from her group and his ex one time and they did some wild shit together let me tell you, [redacted for explicit content].

Wow! I-I did not expect such... Explicit details. And this was former member Chetney Pock O'Pea, High Hunter and Lupine Paragon?

Yeah, it was like really sad of course that he died but we all knew it was gonna happen. And he died like real hero stuff, fucked shit up for Ludinus that's for sure. But Orym is still super sad about it, I think it might've been his dad or something I don't know. But he's also such a softie, even though he's totally only showing his super softie side to Dorian.

Dorian Storm, the Heir to the Silken Squall? The union between he and Orym of the Air Ashari was all we could talk about for weeks! Were they involved then, during the Red Divide?

Oh my gosh, they were sooo in love with each other when we first met, but apparently they had like not even kissed yet! I remember I woke up at 3am cause someone was snoring super loud, and I was like "ugh, I'm soo bored, I can't sleep now" so I got up and drew in my journal a while but then the Traveler was like "go do some funny stuff!" So I decided to draw dicks on some people's faces and went to the room across from me and there they were! Snuggling each other! It was soooo sweet, so I was going to draw matching dicks on them you know? To make it romantic, of course. But then Orym opened his eyes and gave me a very scary look so I didn't. I ended up drawing them on the wolf man instead. But the next morning the two of them came out all shy and awkward, and Dorian was turning purple from blushing so hard. But then Braius came around with the literal most beautiful painting I have ever seen! Of Orym! Can you believe it? And Dorian was like freaked out, so he grabbed Orym's hand, stood in front of the painting to cover it and declared his love for Orym to the whole group. He was all like "I'm in love with Orym so like back off okay" and Braius totally did after that.

So there was a love triangle between the three of them?

I mean, Braius kind of hit on everyone back then so it wasn't a super weird thing. But Dorian was very not into it, which I totally get you know. I'm very protective of my Tusktooth and he's very hot so obviously everyone would want him. Dorian's the same.

So Braius Doomseed is a man about town then?

Well I heard he had a thing going on with Fearne and Ashton, but he also had a thing going on with Fearne's Nana which is like, okay a bit weird even for me. But now I think he settled down with an old flame of his.

Talking about marriage, any details you can share about your nuptials with Mr. Tusktooth?

Well it's going to be in this really big fancy estate with like 3 ballrooms and 30 bedrooms, so we can invite a lot of our friends you know. And I'm going to have a cupcake cake that's in the shape of me and his face, maybe like a blueberry cupcake or chocolate, or both. And then my mom is going to have a dress made for me that's like from this really famous designer, which they used to make all of my mom's dresses so I know it'll be really good.

That sounds incredible. We hope you'll maybe share some photos with us in the future?

Maybe!

Well, thank you for your time Jester. It's been an absolute pleasure. Anything else you want to tell our audience before we go?

I know gods are like super weird for everyone right now, but The Traveler is a really cool guy who's kind of like a god, but not. He's very powerful and nice and he likes to have a lot of fun. Here, I have a pamphlet you can share with your readers!

Unfortunately at this time, the pamphlet was not able to be printed along with this issue.

[glossolali]

more heroforges from my SWM cyberpunk h/c fic! part of my winter's crest gift exchange fic for @wanderingbasilisk aka wandie bc they gave me scifi/android/cyberpunk brain rot and so i gave them 6k of said brain rot lol

pls enjoy 🙏💜

[dhwty-writes]

Assumptions, Innocently Made

It's been three years but I am back with a fic! This is a two parter with the second part almost done that will hopefully stay this way. Please enjoy your fake dating!

Summary: Essek's mother worngfully assumes that her son and the wizard of the Mighty Nein and recently proclaimed Hero of the Dynasty are more than what they appear to be. After inviting both of them to a ball, Essek must ask Caleb to indulge the Umavi's misunderstanding for all three of them to avoid losing face.

Warnings: none

Read on Ao3

Hovering in Caleb's room, wringing his hands, Essek Thelyss did not look any less out of place than the first times he had deigned to enter the Xhorhaus. His perpetual smile was replaced by an anxious expression that did not seem to befit his otherwise composed appearance.

Exactly fifteen minutes and forty-two seconds had passed since Caleb had bid the Shadowhand enter, over ten of which have been spent in Caleb’s room with Essek evidently trying to gather his courage and his words. All of Caleb’s attempts at conversation – offering refreshments, asking how he might help – had been rebuffed so far, so he figured he might as well wait.

“There has been... an assumption,” the Shadowhand finally managed.

“An assumption,” Caleb echoed. He had no clue what to do with that information.

“And a misunderstanding.” Essek’s brow furrowed even deeper.

“I'm afraid I do not follow.”

Essek Thelyss sighed as if this whole ordeal was a terrible imposition on him. Which it probably was. “It appears as if the first time I entered this abode it had been perceived by another member of Den Thelyss. Who in turn took it upon themself to report your… display to the Umavi.”

Caleb frowned, still not completely sure if he understood. His time in Xhorhas had been characterized by rapid departures and daring missions and had not left much time for studying this society they now apparently lived in. As such, his grasp on the intricate workings of the upper echelons of Kryn society remained rather loose, although he understood that the Umavi were not to be trifled with.

Essek continued: “After that first interaction, we have been watched closely and… an assumption has been made that we are much more closely entangled than we actually are.” For the first time since Essek had come to him, he looked Caleb in the eye with a sneer of contempt and annoyance. “It has been... suggested that you accompany me to the Umavi's ball to celebrate the homecoming of her younger son.”

“I see,” Caleb said although he very much did not see. “And I suppose that is not the kind of suggestion one can refuse?”

Essek looked genuinely taken aback at that. “Certainly not.”

“Well, I suppose there is no harm in that”, Caleb said with a shrug, although the very thought of it made his insides crawl. “I will come with you, and we shall clear this up. Nothing to worry about, friend.”

“And embarrass the Umavi in front of her whole court?” A pained expression passed Essek's face. “I think not. It is much safer to claim we broke this off after this occasion.”

“You said we were followed, yes? But the only times we met were in public or when you teleported us across the continent. How many people can truly believe that we are… entangled?” “Were wizards”, Essek replied as if that explained everything. And for one such as Essek Thelyss it probably did. Caleb supposed the Shadowhand would have no issue in teleporting to the Xhorhaus without any of the Nein being able to prevent him from doing so. Or Caleb's room for that matter. Awkwardly, Caleb coughed and dearly wished for his beard to hide the flush coloring his cheeks.

“Besides, it does not matter what people believe,” Essek continued. “The only thing that matters is what the Umavi believes. And the Umavi believes that I have been hiding a relationship from her.”

Caleb considered this for a moment. While there were many things that he could think of that he would rather be doing than spend an evening in Kryn high society with only Essek Thelyss at his side, the man in question seemed genuinely quite perturbed by the thought. It seemed only right to try and help him seek a way out of this situation. “I could go on a mission and not return in time,” he suggested. “Or I could pretend I fell sick on the day of the event.”

“The first would be a terrible insult to Den and Umavi alike and in case of the second, clerics would be queueing in front of your house to relieve you of your ailment.” Essek sighed and passed a hand through his perfectly styled hair, liberating one strand that now stood up at an odd angle. He muttered something under his breath and before Caleb could inquire, he continued louder. “I do not know what I was attempting here, but I am afraid I do not see a way out of this situation without insulting the Umavi and ruining your reputation. So, I would be much obliged if you could do me this favor... and take one off the list you and your group owe me.”

“What about your reputation?” Caleb couldn’t help but ask.

“Let that be of no concern of yours.”

“I will do you this favor,” he quickly agreed, hoping he had not angered the Shadowhand beyond measure. “I am happy to be of assistance to a friend. It is only that you seem rather bothered by the idea.”

“I will manage,” Essek snapped. And that seemed to be that.

Caleb politely waited for Essek to speak again but when the silence stretched too long, he quietly cleared his throat. “What will be expected of me?”

“Well, in this case I am glad to say that I happen to be a rather solitary creature. Bringing another soul with me will already raise enough eyebrows, never mind public displays of affection.” Essek winced and Caleb couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at that. “You need do nothing more than hold my hand. There will be enough drink and food and music available to divert you, and you will likely not lack in conversational partners as half the Den will jump at the chance to thank one of the heroes of the dynasty.”

“Conversation, yes? And here I thought you only required me to look pretty.”

“That too,” Essek said, apparently having missed the joke entirely. “I will forward you some books you might peruse with regards to Kryn etiquette, as well as the address if my tailor, if you are amenable.” “Yes Essek,” Caleb said kindly, “I am amenable.” He did not dare say that he likely couldn’t afford the services of the tailor that usually dressed the Shadowhand; he would find a solution to that when the time came. At least the books should prove to be useful.

It was not long after that that Essek excused himself and Caleb was left with the insurmountable task of telling the Mighty Nein of what had transpired. The recollection of the events was accompanied by much shrieking and hollering that Caleb was glad Essek did not have to suffer, although it did end in the rather conscientious act of Beauregard cornering him later and asking with real concern: “Are you alright?”

Caleb shrugged. “I will be. It is a favor for a friend, ja?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. But it is a pretty big ask to essentially pretend to be someone’s boyfriend. Especially if you have a crush on that guy.”

He bristled at that. “I do not have a crush on Essek Thelyss,” he insisted perhaps a bit too loudly because next he knew he heard Jester cooing from one room over:

“Cay-leb, it is alright if you are in love with Essek, he is like super hot!”

‘I do not even trust him yet,’ he thought but did not dare say out loud, lest he be harassed by Jester. “I’ll be fine,” he ground out and beat a tactical retreat to his room.

The distance and the wall between them allowed him to ignore Beauregard sedulously: “Yeah man, it’s whatever! I just wanted to offer you to talk!”

The next morning, there was a knock on the door as they all ate breakfast. After they all shouted for the visitor to come in and they didn’t, it was Caduceus who went to great them. When he returned, it was with a confused expression on his face and a stack of books under his arm. “There were some books floating outside the door. I think they’re for you, Caleb?”

Absentmindedly Caleb nodded as he took hold of the books, silently wondering if Essek was nearby or if he had somehow managed to relieve himself of the range restrictions that usually came with the Unseen Servant spell. When he finally concluded that he would never ask but instead try and see if he couldn’t find a work-around himself, he was already surrounded by the rest of the Mighty Nein, who were attempting to see what it was that he had received.

With a sigh he spread the books out for them to peruse while he dug around in his component pouch for a pinch of soot and salt and began flipping through his spellbook.

“That’s not fair, I can’t read any of that!” Jester complained the same instant that Beauregard shouted, “Sick, they’re all in Undercommon! Hey, can I borrow one of those? I really need to practice.” There was no way Caleb would be able to concentrate like this.

Without a word, he pushed back his chair, eliciting shouts from various members of the Nein and announced: “I’ll be in the library to read. Any of you are welcome to join so long as you are quiet.”

In the end, Beauregard indeed did join him but not before she had caused quite a ruckus in the training room. When she entered the library sweaty with a “’sup” and plopped down on a chair opposite of Caleb he leveled her with a detached glare. When she then deigned to make grabby hands for one of the books, his glare grew even more unimpressed.

Only by virtue of being loans from one Essek Thelyss were the books saved from being thrown at Beauregard’s head. Instead, he calmly handed her one of the slimmer tomes via his Mage Hand.

She assumed a position in the chair that Caleb refused to believe was comfortable and began skimming the table of contents. As soon as she appeared to be done, supposedly already bored, she interrupted him for the second time since entering the room: “So how’s the study sesh been so far?” she asked with a yawn.

“Not as quiet as I hoped,” he grumbled. On the other hand, when was time spent with the Mighty Nein ever?

“Hah!” Beauregard laughed at that and looked at the book again. “Man, this shit looks complicated. There’s an entire chapter about hair ties. And another about buttons and cufflinks. Shit and I thought empire rich folk were obnoxious.”

Caleb sighed. He couldn’t say that he didn’t agree. In his time under Ikithon’s tutelage he had received a modicum of training as to how to behave in high society and even though his training had been rudimentary, he could not recall it being even remotely as complicated as what he was dealing with now.

Since this morning, he had made it only halfway through one of the books and despite his perfect memory, his mind was swimming with the exact angle at which one had to bow as well as greetings and different forms of address that seemed to have repercussions on the use of a language he didn’t speak. He could only hope that a casting of Tongues would equip him with the ability to not make a total fool of himself. And that he would have enough spell slots for the entirety of the ball.

The next days were spent like this: Caleb and Beauregard retreated to the library where they would spend their time perusing the books Essek had sent, occasionally debating their contents. They would be left in relative peace from the rest of the Mighty Nein, except for Caduceus poking in his head to ask if they were hungry or thirsty or the usual cracks and bangs that their friends caused. While most of them sounded concerning, Caleb was called only once to cast Control Flames on a misfired Fluffernutter that threatened to set their pantry aflame. What those materials had been even doing close to the kitchen, Caleb thought better not to ask.

Occasionally, he would receive a Sending from Essek, requesting this or that or reminding him of something he had previously forgotten. Caleb acquiesced his every wish and in turn asked Jester more than once to send a message back to Essek to clarify something. While Essek’s books spoke a great deal about the hairstyles of different dens, what about people without dens? Caleb insisted that he could just wear his customary ponytail, Jester insisted that he wouldn’t fit in. Essek assured him that any hairstyle was fine, as long as he didn’t mirror any style from a prominent Den. Caleb asked about the right color of clothing – anything but white – and the need for gifts – Essek would take care of that – as well as if he should wear his token of the Bright Queen – absolutely, if he wanted to be taken seriously. Despite his previously prickly demeanor when dealing with them, Essek remained ever patient in face of the constant probing.

He and Beau did not read every day. One day, Caleb cast Tongues on himself and attempted to hold a conversation with individuals of different stations. They came to the conclusion that while the spell was able to inflect the words correctly, it only did so if the titles were spoken in the original Undercommon. So, the next day was spent trying to teach Caleb the correct pronunciation so the spell would pick up on his intention.

One of the books was entirely about ballroom dances that were currently fashionable in the Dynasty. After quite a lot of ridicule at his attempts, Beauregard finally volunteered herself to help him. The upside of that was that Beauregard was trained enough to pose as a suitable dance partner. The downside was that they had to move to the training room for that and soon attracted an audience.

Jester was the first to jump in and demand to “learn the Xhorhas dances too pretty please!” And Caleb had not yet found the strength to deny her anything and seriously doubted that he ever would. After that came Nott and after Fjord joked that Caleb would only dance with the ladies, he dragged him in as well. After that it was almost a point of pride, to dance with the rest of the Mighty Nein as well, including Yeza, who seemed exceptionally clumsy for a man of his profession.

Almost a week had passed when Jester grew evidently bored with the lack of something to do.

“Cay-leb,” she whined, draped across a chaise longue in a position she had no doubt copied from her mother. “Do you know what you’ll wear yet?”

“No,” he said simply. He was busy trying to memorize the correct order of meal items as well as the corresponding cutlery. Many he was familiar with, but he could not quite grasp how to crack the shell of a giant spider leg or why purple worm tartare was to be eaten only from specialized silver spoons. When she’d read that Beauregard had apparently been unable to keep herself from making a joke about Essek’s circumstances of birth.

“Have you not even… like, thought about it, though?” Jester continued to inquire.

It took a moment for him to recall what this was in reference to. Eventually he said. “Essek gave me the name of his tailor. I’m sure they’ll have something suitable.”

Jester gasped at that and sat up. “Cay-leb!” she shouted way too loudly. “The ball is in like less than a week!”

“So?”

“It takes time to make pretty clothes, you know?”

Caduceus, who was currently watering the plants, nodded sagely. “Nine women can’t make a baby in a month.”

“I don’t need entirely new clothes. They can just alter something for me to fit.”

Without looking up from her book on the genealogy of Den Thelyss, Beauregard snorted.

“What?”

“Dude.” She levelled him with a glare. “There is no way Essek buys off the rack.”

“But-!”

“Just go to the damn tailor, Caleb,” Beauregard interrupted him rudely. With an eyeroll she turned back to her reading.

“I’ll come with you!” Jester immediately volunteered. Caleb wasn’t sure if he found that prospect reassuring. However, he had spent enough time with Jester to know she was a woman not easily denied once she had put her mind to something.

Beauregard had the audacity to sink deeper into her armchair and wave at him. “Have fun!”

It was like this that Caleb found himself in the company of Jester standing in the middle of a tailor’s shop in the Gallimaufry district where everything in the shop window looked like it was worth more than everything Caleb owned combined.

They were greeted by a very friendly Drow who introduced herself as Phaere. “Caleb Widogast, I presume?” she inquired with a small bow as appropriate for greeting someone of a higher station in employ of one of the ruling Dens. “The Shadowhand told us to expect you. We are honored to provide you with whatever you need.”

Caleb was quite taken aback. He didn’t know that he had ever been treated with this much respect and deference, much less since he had become Caleb Widogast. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, not quite sure how to respond.

At least one good thing came from having Jester around, for he was spared from having to figure that out. “Ohmygosh that’s so nice!” she squealed and barreled to the front. “Hi, I’m Jester! I’m Caleb’s friend and I’m here to make sure that he looks his best for Essek!”

“Then you have come to the right place,” Phaere said with a smile and bowed again. “Whatever your wish, you shall receive it.”

“I am not yet very familiar with the fashions of the Dynasty,” he finally managed to say. “So I commend myself to your capable hands. Whatever you think will suit a wizard of my station and stature I am sure will serve well.”

A minute expression of confusion passed over the tailor’s face. “As a hero of the Dynasty at the Shadowhand’s side? I’ll say you can wear whatever you want to.”

Again, Caleb felt wrong-footed and unsure as to how to respond. This time, Phaere seemed to sense his discomfort and suggested: “How about I show you some fabrics? We can talk about the design later.”

The fabrics Phaere did show him were difficult to comprehend. He had never felt anything as soft as spidersilk, never seen anything as finely embroidered as the borders on display, never thought brocade could look as rich as that. Occasionally they would be interrupted by Jester who had found something herself: “Cay-leb, look at this! Wouldn’t hat be a great sash,” holding a bolt of sheer white fabric that made Phaere freeze. She only relaxed when he explained that white was reserved for Umavi. Or: “Cay-leb, we could weave that into your hair!” pointing at ribbons of cloth-of-gold or -silver that were surely for bound edges. They even spent twenty minutes debating over buttons with Jester insisting he should get the gem-encrusted ones to “treat himself” while he maintained that the plain silver ones would be enough. When he mentioned that he did not want to overshadow Essek, Phaere laughed and assured him that wouldn’t be possible.

Eventually, they settled on fabrics that were simple, but only deceptively so. The cut Phaere suggested was traditional and a little flashy for his tastes, though she was excited to include his suggestions on how to adjust it according to Empire fashions, if only subtly. In the end, Caleb couldn’t help but admit that he was satisfied.

“Thank you,” Caleb said earnestly. He genuinely believed that he was in good hands with the tailor. “I would now like to discuss the matter of payment.” He had been dreading this conversation.

Phaere blinked at him dumbstruck. Eventually, she said: “I can assure you, the Shadowhand has that matter quite handled.”

He suddenly felt faint. It was one thing receiving a new set of robes that probably cost more than his childhood home. It was quite another to have someone else pay for it.

He opened his mouth to protest but before he could get a single word out, he was interrupted by an armful of blue tiefling. “Ohmygosh Cay-leb!” Jester squealed as he hugged him tight. “That’s so romantic! Essek wants you to look so good for him and you don’t even have to pay!”

“Right,” he muttered. “Very romantic.” In his mind he made a note to thoroughly thank Essek for his expense. “Then at least allow me a tip for an excellent service.”

Phaere bowed her head, hardly in a place to object to that. So, Caleb dug around in his purse and set seven gold pieces on the counter, the last he had left to his name. Surely the Mighty Nein would take another mission soon and until then he would get by.

Eventually, the day of the ball arrived and while Caleb didn’t feel comfortable, he was at least reasonably confident that he would be able to spend one night among Kryn nobles without making a complete fool of himself. Or Essek for that matter.

He was fussing with his new robes in front of his mirror, still adjusting to the asymmetrical style favored in the dynasty. Additionally, he fought the urge to hunch his shoulders and disappear in the crowd. That was not why Essek was bringing him tonight. Essek was an individual few could overlook, and Caleb had vowed to do him proud.

Far too soon came the quiet knock on the door, but when he bid them enter, it was not one of the Mighty Nein announcing that Essek had arrived. Instead, surprisingly, it was Yasha, who quietly closed the door behind her. “You look good,” she said after scrutinizing him from head to toe.

“Thank you.”

“Not like when we first met,” she added. “I mean, I didn’t want to say something back then but… you know. You look better now. Good. These robes look good.”

“Thank you,” Caleb said again, unsure how else to react.

“Are you nervous?” Yasha blurted suddenly. When he didn’t immediately answer, she just barreled on: “I mean, I’m sure you are. It’s alright to be. I’m also sure that you’ll have a great date tonight.”

Despite his resolutions, Caleb hunched his shoulders. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Well…” she said with a shrug.

Before he could ask her to elaborate, the moment was interrupted by Jester’s shout: “Cay-LEB! He’s here!”

And that was all the warning he got before the Mighty Nein barged into his room to herd him outside. In the foyer, he was stopped by Nott, who was wiping away a fake tear. “Look at my boy!” she screeched. “All grown up and ready for prom night!”

Caleb frowned deeply. “I’m not sure I’m familiar with that tradition.”

“Never mind. Go get him, Lebby!”

He was about to reply something when Beauregard shouted: “Caleb, your man’s getting impatient!”

Naturally, all the Nein were there to see them off. Caleb wished he could vanish in the ground, especially with all the jeers and calls of “Hot boi!” that sounded from the porch. Fjord managed to shout above them all instructing Essek to “have him home by ten, young man!”

Hurriedly, Caleb walked over to Essek who frowned with confusion. “I do not believe the ball will be done by ten o’clock.”

“Ignore them,” he griped. “Are you ready?”

Essek heaved a sigh. “As ready as I’ll be.” He offered his arm to Caleb and within a breath they were gone.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

i told y'all i was on it

[mintywolf]

In the woods not far from Whitestone, close enough that she can see the lights of the castle on the hill if she looks up, but far enough that the warmth of them is only a distant memory, a nameless dead girl is stumbling through the snow. The long furrow cut by her dragging feet winds between the trees like an unrolled strand of yarn, looping erratically around the scaly trunks of the pines and dodging the sharp elbows of rock jutting from the mountainside where she has paused to search for berries, or lichens, or tree bark soft enough to chew on. But the basket dangling from her hand is as empty as the rest of her.

The rough edge of frost in the air catches in her throat and she stops to cough into her threadbare shawl, reaching out a hand to the trunk of a nearby tree to keep from being toppled over into the snow. When she straightens up her teary eyes catch on something bright through the blur of ink, and after she blinks a few times it resolves itself into a hopeful cluster of berries hanging like forgotten holiday ornaments from a tendril of leafless vine. Shifting her basket onto her arm, she makes a shuffling step towards them.

Don’t eat those, the Lady in her head snaps, before she can even examine them, it's bittersweet.

“I don’t mind.”

You will if you eat them. Bittersweet is kin to nightshade. Best left for the birds. Come, the woman says, and it’s like a hand has taken hold of her arm, only the hand is in her mind like the voice of the woman commanding, coaxing, berating her onwards. The dead girl wants to go home, where there’s at a place to sleep and a fire that might soothe a little of the bone-deep ache under her skin, but her shelves are winter-bare, and so she continues on through the woods.

“Delilah? How many ways to die in the Parchwood do you think there are?” she asks to pass the time as she trudges along, a little breathless from the uneven ground that makes it feel like she’s always going uphill. (How funny, to think of a corpse being out of breath. But the air still goes in and out of her lungs like a creaky bellows, albeit a bit slower than it used to.)

(Read more on AO3)

[ladynearthelake]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Yep, this is just where we're at now, huh?

Lieve'tel and Cerkonos, after the battle:

Lieve’tel quietly excuses herself once Vox Machina is settle at Whitestone. She has no illusions that she’ll be missed. She hands off the arcane relic to Lord De Rolo and ducks out of the chamber. She can still feel the resentment in the Tempest’s gaze as she glides away. She can’t blame Keyleth. She understands. But she can do nothing about the natural order of things. Death gives life meaning, but that is little comfort to those still grieving. Even after all this time.

As she descends the steps, she reaches her hand out, letting the small, silver bell sway with the movement. She closes her eyes and cast a locating spell. Like all in her order, Lieve’tel can usually find her way to the nearest cemetery, but she wants to be sure. She’s not sure how long she’ll be welcome here, and it would only be right to pay her respects.

Mr. Bell was a sweet man, pompous and full of himself, but kind in a natural way that reminded Lieve of her own, long passed family. She enjoyed the time they spent together. He wasn’t in Vasselheim often, but he always came to call when he if he was. He was ruled by the call to adventure, and last she saw him, he had mentioned a new prospect in Jrusar. She wished him well with a kiss to the cheek when he left.

Part of her knew she wouldn’t see him again. Even in her position, she isn’t inoculated against the pain of grief.

The dream of his final moments--and her name being the last on his lips-- ached for weeks.

But death is a part of life, and Lieve’tel knows this better than most.

She smiles at the small carving of Bertrand on the large clock tower she passes. Even through her gloves, she can feel to coldness of the stone.

She takes the long way around, her instincts drawing her to a small path that winds through the woods outside the city walls. The woods are peaceful; a stark contrast to the madness she just witnessed. She’s still battered and sore, but a quick rest will sort that out.

Snowdrops carpet the path she walks, and she smiles. She lets some of the formality of her presentation fall away. Her shoulders fall and her head falls forward. Perhaps she’s more tired than she thought. But soon enough, Lieve’tel emerges into the Greyfield. The headstones are white and clearly well tended. It’s a comfort to see that the dead are not forgotten here. She tugs on the strings of her spell, and lets them pull her towards one of the newer headstones. It’s imperceptibly whiter than the rest, but she manages to locate it.

“Hello, Mr Bell,” she says as she slowly gets to her knees. She sits heavily on her heels and begins to tug at the fingers of her gauntlets. “It pleases me that you’ve been so well attended to.”

She tosses her gloves carelessly beside her, and reaches out a hand to run over the headstone. She traces the engraved epitaph, forcing down the stab of grief when she remembers the touch of his knobby knuckles against her cheek. Her other she buries in the still loose topsoil. When she flexes her hand, she remembers the last time she ran her fingers through his gray chest hair and the way the light from the fireplace cast his euphoric smile in sharp contrast to the shadow.

A tear rolls down her porcelain cheek. She leans forward so it might fall into the soil.

She imagines him walking in the comfort of the Matron’s shadow, and that soothes the ache a bit. The thread of her existence will be long, but she will see him again when it is finally her time to rest.

She sits there for a bit, resting and healing, before she catches a familiar scent on the wind. It’s fresh and earthy, like the forest floor after a cleansing fire. New threads of life are so eager to reach for the sky now that the way is cleared. She smiles to herself, rousing from her mediation.

“Flamespeaker,” she says without turning around.

His steps are nearly silent, but she can feel the faint vibration in the ground. He stops just behind her, and when she turns to look at him over her shoulder, he’s frozen in place. It’s very fetching how wrong footed he is around her. She moves to push herself up, but falters. He’s at her side in an instant, clearly trying to find something to say. His hands are invitingly warm.

“Thank you.”

“I…I did not mean to presume,” Cerkonos says, moving away from her after he seems sure she won’t fall, “If you wanted to be alone, I can—”

Lieve’tel shakes her head. “No, I only wanted a moment to visit.” She grabs hold of his wrist before he can pull fully away and wraps her arm around his. Whatever tension she’s still holding from the fight releases at the touch of his flame. “I am still a bit unsteady, if you don’t mind.”

They stand there for a moment, looking at each other. He doesn’t seem to have any lingering hurts from the battle, but she before she can ask if he needs a bit of healing, she feels the flame of his magic wash over her. The relief of it nearly brings tears to her eyes, but Lieve’tel is very well schooled in keeping her emotions hidden. She only leans into him, leeching what she can of his fire.

He ducks his head as she smiles knowingly at him. “The battle was hard, and you had been hurt,” he mumbles.

She tilts his chin up with the tip of her finger. “Thank you, Cerkonos. I wonder if I could impose upon you for an escort back to Vasselheim? Vox Machina needs their time to rest and recover, but the battle is far from over.”

“Oh…yes. I should return as well.” Cerkonos looks back toward the castle towering over them. “Should we tell them?”

Lieve’tel thinks of the looks on the Tempest’s and Lady De Rolo’s faces when they saw the Champion again and shakes her head. “No, let them have the evening. There will be much to do tomorrow.”

He nods and gestures towards a nearby tree. They pass through the tree side by side, stepping out into the chilly air of the Dawn City. A light flurry of snow blankets the Abundant Terrace as they step out of the Birthheart.

“May I take you back to the Duskmeadow?” Cerkonos asks, blushing handsomely.

“That is quite the trek from here, Flamespeaker. I understand you have accommodations here?”

His gaze jerks back to hers.

“This could be the eve of the end of the world, Cerkonos. I would rather not be alone.”

His face flushes redder than Ruidus, but he nods quickly. Lieve’tel grips his arm a bit tighter and gives him a slight nod. He guides her through the flaps of his tent and with a gesture gets a fire burning in the fire pit at the center of the space. She asks him to help her remove her cape and armor before she pulls out the pins holding her hair in place. She’s still in her underclothes, and stops him from undressing any further. She pulls him to the bed and gently pushes him down. She lets him settle before resting her head against his shoulder. Her hand rests just over his heart. He is warm and so very alive. He lets his hand settle just above her hip as he slowly lets himself relax.

Lieve’tel wants to say something, a promise for the uncertain future, something comforting, but exhaustion overwhelms her. She blinks sleepily, noting the book at his bedside and the bookmark set a few pages from the end.

“Will you read to me?” she asks.

“O-of course,” he says. He reaches over and finds his place. She barely registers the words, but lets the vibration of his chest carry her to sleep. There’s much to do in the morning.