#ask korrin

[waltwhitmansbeard]

writing ask for you - i just finished the rumblecusp arc and i'm having vilya feels. could you do vilya/korrin and #14 of the cuddle and snuggle ask game (being calmed by the familiar feeling of the other's body moulding into theirs)?

14. being calmed by the familiar feeling of the other's body moulding into theirs surprise, bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me

He stands. He watches. There are others, he's aware, watching him watch the two of them, all of Zephrah crowded around its center in confusion, shock, joy, suspicion. He can't see them. He just sees them, his daughter, now a woman grown, a leader, a hero, folded and sobbing in the arms of—

He takes a step forward. Even though there's no one between him and them, the gawkers shift and part, giving him more space. She looks the same. She looks like a stranger. Her leg—it wasn't always...? No. No, that's new.

She looks up, over their daughter's shoulder. When their eyes meet, he breaks into a run.

His arms wrap around both of them easily, like they did when Keyleth was a child, giggling and squirming as the parents who worshipped her like the miracle she is pressed obnoxious kisses all over her face and neck. She's stronger now, could toss him off without a second thought, but not even a god could match the strength with which he holds his family together, inexplicably whole for the first time in over four decades.

"Korrin." His name on her lips sounds incredible, alien and familiar all at once. He straightens, can barely see her through the tears. Vilya kisses Keyleth's cheeks, shining and wet, and then turns to face him fully. Impossible, that she's still so beautiful. Impossible, that he can love her as much as he did when they were fumbling kids, too young and too naïve to even guess what was in store for them. He embraces her, and her head slots just under his chin, her arms hook just under his shoulder blades, her breath falls just in sync with his, and the raucous storm of thoughts quiets to a peaceful ocean, waves lapping in susurrus against the shore.

She is home, and so is he.

[blorbologist]

Two for joy - Chapter 16

(Much of the following can be whittled down to single sentences shared. A year is an awful long time - even if, truly, it’s nearer to three-quarters of one. Some must be skimmed, when recounting the events.)

(Of course, there’s little fun in that. We are not at a table, you and I.)

--

“So,” says Vex’ahlia, tapping her pencil to her lip, “he’ll accompany you for meetings with foreign or otherwise unknown representatives and dinners?���

Cass nods, taking a sip of her tea and replacing the saucer on the grass. The frogs sing around them - it’s not the most conventional of locales to hash something out, but, well. It’s not exactly conventional to discuss who gets Trinket’s company when.

“I would appreciate that,” she says. “And if he would be generous enough to accompany me in the halls, when late-” A heavy swallow.

Vex notices. She decides to make it obvious by putting down her pencil, reaching out to slowly place a hand on Cass’ wrist. The lace is a curious map beneath her fingers - better than scars, at least.

Trinket’s nose joins her a second letter, wuffling.

“I think he would.” Vex grins. Draws away when Cass shoots her a grateful look to scribble something into their faux-contract. “And how do you feel about relinquishing him for my patrols in the Patchwood?”

--

Percy’s face when he finds that slipped into his paperwork is certainly worth almost choking on her biscuit. “Really? Both of you?”

--

[One for sorrow] [Ch1] [Keep reading on AO3]  

[frees-erotic-writings]

Crazy 1A: Nadûr agreed to help Nott get past her debilitating alcoholism. Good news, he succeeded! Bad news, now the little goblin’s got a new addiction~

"M-more...~" Nott panted heatedly. Her small gobbo hands pumping desperately about the massive cock. She had just swallowed six loads of Nadûr's cum, but just like how she was while she was an alcoholic, the thicc shortstack goblin found a new addiction.

"Think ah might've made a m'stake..." The handsome half-orc groaned out. Feeling his cock throb in Nott's skilled hands. Beside him, his vampiric lover Korrin giggled.

"You agreed to help poor Nott with her alcohol addiction~" Korrin purred, and lovingly nipped her lover's neck. "Did you honestly not believe that dear Nott wouldn't get addicted to the taste of your seed?~"

Nadûr had no verbal response. He instead chose to shove Nott's head down. Forcing every single inch of his cock down her throat, as a geyser of cum poured out of his cock. Pumping the insatiable little gobbo full of more of her new favorite drink.

[essayofthoughts]

I'll get to yours later!

😭😭😭 For someone who *isn't* a de Rolo (this includes Vex)

😭- So the thing about horse-riding - and steering horses in general - is that you have to hold reins a pretty specific way. This isn't just holding onto rope, this is holding it in such away you can apply very precise pressure on the bit in the horse's mouth so as to direct them as well as making sure the rein doesn't slip through your fingers and also making sure you don't break your fingies - because horses are strong! It's why we domesticated them. Horses = Stronk.

The way you do this is you loop the reins carefully around certain of your fingers - you can hold additional reins in one hand by looping slightly differently, because you need to maintain contact if you want the horse to actually listen to you (note: some horses are stubborn and may not listen much anyway. Herd instinct is strong as is stubbornness and also horses).

Desmond really liked working with horses. He liked riding the horses out to make sure they were in good shape, he liked doing the finicky plaiting of their manes and tails so they looked their best, he liked his work as well as just being good at it.

And now he can't anymore, not the same way.

😭 - How do you grieve when you're not sure the person is actually gone? How do you grieve when you have to take on their mantle in the interim? How do you grieve when you have to give the last piece of them left to you to the same thing that cost you them? That you know they'll take up because they have a firm sense of responsibility and care underlying everything they do?

How many memories of Keyleth's childhood are mired in that complicated mix of unresolved grief and responsibility for Korrin?

😭 - Allura remembers her old party. Those that live, she's still in contact with and she's so glad she still has Drake and Kima in her life. The others... she has memories. She has keepsakes.

Between the demon attack on her tower pre-stream and the attack on the tower by Vorugal when the Conclave claimed Emon, a few of those keepsakes have gone missing or been damaged. It is somehow harder to keep going sometimes, when those last few pieces she has of them are gone too.

Send me a 😭 for one of my saddest headcanons about a character

[everystephoftheway]

Hi!! For the post-argument scenarios, may I request:

 “i don’t want to go to bed angry…can we please talk about this?” 

You can pick whomever you want! Thank you <3

awkward post-argument scenarios takes place in the camp cloudtop au

Silence is not usually what fills Korrin’s home. More often than not the walls can barely contain the laughter and conversation between himself and his daughter, his light, his life, but tonight–only silence. It was in times like this he let himself truly miss his wife. What would she do in this situation? How would she try to fix things? How cruel it is that he must do this alone when that was never the intention.

He stands in front of his daughter’s shut bedroom door for what seems like hours, though in reality it’s only a minute or so. His hand hovers in the air and he takes a deep breath before knocking gently. 

It takes a minute before he hears a soft, “What?” behind the door.

“Can I come in?”

Another minute passes. “I guess.” 

Korrin opens the door slowly, as if a force of nature waits for him, but when he sees his daughter sitting on her bed, knees pressed nearly up to her shoulders, his worry softens into a different form, more worried for her than himself. He walks in and perches on the side of her bed, hands crossed in his lap.

“I didn’t want to go to bed angry…Can we talk?”

Keyleth looks up at her father in the warm lamp light of her bedroom. He’s a tall man, Korrin, and yet he manages to make himself so small when he needs to. She eyes him for a moment, deciding whether or not she’s going to give him the out or let her anger continue to boil over. But, as her knees fall to the bedspread, she realizes her anger is no longer boiling. It reduced down to something much quieter: hurt.

She nods her head and Korrin scoots a little further onto the bed now that he knew he could stay. 

“I…am not a perfect man.” He starts with his eyes on his hands, but he forces himself to look at his young daughter, face his self doubts with some respect. “Things of the past shouldn’t hinder our futures. Fear should not run our lives. But the idea of you leaving home so young,” ‘not being with me’ goes unsaid, “scares me. After your mother…I am not saying you should never leave home. One day you are going to become a strong, independent young woman. You are going to turn the world on its axis and make an indelible mark. But for right now, right now, you are my little girl. And I don’t think I can part with you just yet.” 

His eyes fall again, his hands squeezing against each other as he lets the silence wash over them, waiting for Keyleth’s reaction. It is a lot, what he just said, and for a young girl? Is it a mistake to be so honest? 

“I miss Mom too.” She leans forward and crawls into Korrin’s lap, which he happily accepts, wrapping his arms around her so she’s pulled into his chest. “Maybe I can go to camp next year?”

Korrin smiles over her head; the voice in his head is shouting no, keep her here forever, where she’s safe, but he ends up nodding. “Maybe next year.”

[peachesfrompluto]

Do you have voice claims for your OC's?

OMG are you asking about my magical boys?? 🥺

I DO actually, but only for Percy, Zero, and Jeong! i haven't exactly found the right voice for Piotr yet bc he has a slavic accent and I haven't come across any actors that really capture his voice...

my voice claim for Percy is Zeno Robinson who does Hawks from MHA, Hunter from Owl House, and Goh from Pokemon Journeys. i feel like Percy would sound like a more mature Goh? yeah! 0:02 - 0:27 is almost exactly like how i imagined Percy would sound like

Zero's voice claim would be Jonah Scott (Aiden Caldwell from Dying Light 2, Legoshi from BEASTARS, Joe from SK8), i just love how suave his voice is!! anyways Zero would probably sound like how Scott did Sniper Mask from High Rise Invasion, maaybe with a slight robot voice filter

lastly Jeong would be Benjamin Diskin (Joseph Joestar, Numbah 1), specifically how he does Haida from Aggretsuko-- the awkward politeness in Haida's voice is absolutely how Jeong would sound like

I guuess the closest I got for Piotr's voice claim would be Sukuna's Russian dub but that'd only be for when Piotr speaks russian (or well, the equivalent of it in the comic) 😭

[freeusemuses]

Alright Nadûr—Fuck Marry Kill: Storm, Rogue, and Jean Grey of X-Men

"Now that-" Nadûr was suddenly pushed put of frame by Korrin.

"We're fucking and marrying all three! Kill is not an option!"

[pinkhairandpokemon]

did you and your partner pokémon always get along? forgo which number it was

Blake: Kappa and I got along pretty well at the start, although I was still pretty new to being a trainer and we didn’t communicate very well at first. Once he became a Drizzile he started to rebel a bit more, pain in my neck 24/7. It was a very drastic change compared to how he was as a Sobble lol, but really I just had to come to accept that he’d grown up a bit and didn’t need me holding his hand as much! He just wanted me to trust him in battle more and not fret over him so much like I used to. By the time he evolved into Inteleon we got it sorted out!

Hop: Cloudy n’ I have been two peas in a pod ever since Lee gave him to me! Though we’ve… definitely had our bumps in the road. There was this one time where he ran off for a whole day, cause I raved so much about Lee’s Charizard and made him jealous. He found his way back home though, a nice Corviknight taxi pilot found him an came to deliver him back. Cloudy literally jumped out of the taxi window when he saw me, while it was still airborne nonetheless! I managed to catch him thank Arc, but it still gave all of us a good fright.

Auberi: Korrin and I had… a rocky start. He was so friendly towards me, but I was kind of nervous so I kept my distance in a sense. He got through to me eventually though, and now I don’t know what I’d do without him.

[arcaneglitch]

13 and 14: Character(s) of your choice

choosing Rae bc her theme song just came on lmao

13. what languages do they speak? how fluently?

Rae is fluent in English and, being a Reefborn Awoken, she's also fluent in the Speech, though she doesn't use it much anymore She also has a working proficiency in sign language, specifically ASL, as her fireteam sometimes uses it on missions where stealth is of the utmost importance

14. are they any good with numbers?

She used to be Very good with numbers but has taken great pleasure in letting those skills degrade (although her skills are still above average when compared to most of her clanmates)

ty for the ask :3

oc asks

[ravendruid]

Hi there! I’m new here and would like to ask for your September prompts, Critical Role, Vaxleth, number 28 please

Hi!! Welcome in! Thank you so much for sending a prompt, I really appreciate it. I'm sorry it took me a few days to write it, I hope you like it ^_^

A Slice of Life

(Read on AO3)

Vax’ildan is not used to being the first one to wake up but since the heat of the Zephrahn summer has been unbearable on him, Vax has been waking up shortly after dawn for the past two days thanks to the already sweltering heat that makes it impossible for him to be under the covers with Keyleth, who, by herself, is already a naturally hot person. Vax doesn’t usually have to wait too long for Keyleth to turn in bed, face him, and kiss him good morning with her sleep-crusted eyes and hoarse voice, but for some reason, his usually morning butterfly of a girlfriend is enjoying the softness of the sheets this morning, so Vax takes the chance to stretch out like a cat and pads quietly out of the bedroom.

Their house is not big. It’s a one-bedroom cottage near the center of Zephrah, not too far from the building that acts as what some might call a town hall. It was an easy choice once Keyleth saw the vine and moss covered walls, the small but cute garden outback shaded by a large oak tree with a wooden swing hanging from a thick branch, and the pebbled path surrounded by bee and butterfly-friendly flowers. It didn’t matter much to Vax where they would stay in regards to proximity of work or what the house would look like as long as Keyleth was happy, but he has to admit that the charm of the run-down cottage has grown on him, especially with the work and hours Vax and Keyleth have put into repairing it.

The proportion of the rooms is not too far off with the house itself. The kitchen has limited counter space that has taught Vax to cherish storage spaces, with a small stove and oven, a sink and an ice box big enough for both of them; the living and dining room is one single area where they keep a high table with two stools behind the back of the soft, green couch. There was no room for Keyleth’s favorite armchair, though, so they opted to let it remain at her father’s house, but Keyleth affirmed she would not leave her favorite plush rug behind, so that is now decorating the floor between the couch and the fireplace. They also purchased a handmade bookshelf from a local woodcarver, who, when told who this order was for, carved their initials on the wood at the top. It now stands against a wall, holding the majority of Keyleth’s books—everything from Alchemy and Herbs, to romance and fairytale books—and all the trinkets Vax has collected over their years of adventuring. Their bedroom is probably one of the largest rooms in the house, with a big glass window that faces the backyard and the mountains. Keyleth had fun decorating it in a way that would include both their tastes and personalities, which Vax loved, and adding more ivy and plants everywhere she could. Sometimes Vax feels like he’s still sleeping under the canopy of a forest and not in a house.

Vax looks at the ice box when he steps into the kitchen area and he’s already shaking his head because he knows he will find it practically empty. Keyleth has had to travel to Vasselheim quite a lot this week, so they haven’t had the opportunity to get many homemade meals, and because of that, their groceries are lacking. However, Vax still finds enough to whip up something: a small carton of eggs Korrin brought over yesterday, a little bit of milk left from Vax’s breakfasts, and even a few slices of bacon. It’s not much, but it’ll do. As long as they have coffee, Vax knows he will be safe.

So Vax puts on the black apron Keyleth made for him, the one where she embroidered Kiss the Rogue on the chest area in red with a fanged mouth—she will never let him forget how his first instinct was to charm the Briarwoods to get out of trouble the first time he encountered them—last Winter’s Crest, and he starts preparing breakfast, which doesn’t take too long. 

Vax was fully expecting the smell of fresh brewed coffee and crispy bacon would be enough to rouse Keyleth, but it seems like his druid might be having a bad case of lazy morning because when he cracks the bedroom door open to check on her, she is still sleeping, snoring lightly while sprawled out on the bed with the sheets bundled at her feet and her red, messy braid falling on his pillow. Vax can’t help but chuckle at the sight as he crosses the bedroom to open the window. It doesn’t do much to stave off the heat (if anything it brings even more heat), but at least the singing of the birds is louder and the room feels more in-tune with nature.

“Kiki,” Vax calls softly, brushing a strand of hair from the little of Keyleth’s face he can see. The woman doesn’t stir, so far out she is to the world. Vax can’t blame her with all the work Keyleth has had, with the nights she’s been staying up, looking up information, reading reports and other documents, until Vax says ‘enough is enough’ and drags her to bed. Keyleth needs this rest, which is the biggest reason that Vax decides to try only one more time. If she doesn’t wake up, then it’s because she clearly isn’t ready to.

“Keyleth,” Vax shakes her shoulder lightly this time. Finally there is a sign of recognition as Keyleth stirs and hums. “Morning, beautiful,” Vax brushes Keyleth’s hair, speaking softly when she starts moving her long, sprawled out limbs. He watches as the druid curls into herself and, for a moment, Vax regrets waking her up, but then Keyleth slowly opens one eye, followed by the other, and he gets to see those bright, green eyes he loves so much, and every thought leaves his head.

“Uhm,” Keyleth hums, turning on her back and stretching out like a starfish as long as she can, which makes Vax laugh. He’s never seen her like this, so sleepy and relaxed. It’s adorable. “No,” Keyleth grumbles, bringing her bottom lip up in a pout when she sees Vax. 

“No?” 

“Come back to bed,” Keyleth orders. Vax laughs again and shakes his head, saying, “It’s too hot, and I made breakfast.”

The last word seems to be incentive enough to make Keyleth open her eyes wider and focus on him, and Vax can practically see the cog wheels of her brain dust off the rust and start working. 

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Coming right up,” Vax kisses her forehead before he steps out into the kitchen, where he grabs both mugs of coffee and brings them back to the bedroom. “Would you also like breakfast in bed, your highness?” He jokes. Keyleth doesn’t reply until after she grabs the coffee mug from him, takes a large gulp and sighs from the quick boost of caffeine. 

“Yes, please.”

“Sorry it’s not much,” Vax apologizes when he brings a plate with eggs, toast and bacon. “We’re running out of food.”

“It’s everything,” Keyleth smiles like a little kid on Winter’s Crest. “It tastes good too.”

“I’m glad,” Vax kisses her cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a stone.”

“I could tell. You were snoring really loud. I think everyone in town heard you.” Vax jokes, waggling his eyebrows at her. Keyleth gives him an offended look which Vax can’t take seriously due to the piece of toast hanging out of her mouth. 

“Liar. I did not snore,” Keyleth admonishes him. Vax snorts into his coffee and gives her a wink over the rim of his mug. “Did you sleep well?” Keyleth asks.

“Too hot. Seriously, why is it so hot here?” Vax complains and to emphasize, he takes off his sweat-damp tunic.

“Not a lot of wind to cool things down,” Keyleth explains. “I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, considering we are the Air Ashari, but the protective barrier that keeps all the bad weather out also keeps out most of the winds that are characteristic of the Summit Peaks, which means it can get pretty toasty in Zephrah.”

“Can you do something about it?” Vax asks. Keyleth can do a lot of pretty awesome things these days—one of her most recent tricks is being able to turn into a dragon, which almost sent Vax to an early grave from admiration the first time he witnessed it—so maybe she can do something about the heat.

“Technically, I can, yes, but I would need the agreement from the rest of the elder council.”

The stupid elder council, Vax thinks. The group of older, wiser people that ensure the wishes of all citizens are met, or at least heard. They would never allow Keyleth to change the protective barrier to allow more wind through to lower the town’s temperature because, in Vax’s opinion, they are all a group of stuck-up, ancient old bags who hate change and keep rejecting every single proposal Keyleth has brought to the table when it concerns the development of Zephrah (including the creation of an elite group of soldiers whose job would be to protect the town, and technically the Tempest, from external threats). 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Keyleth promises when she notices Vax’s downcast gaze. 

“You know… things would be easier if you’d just allow me to have a little talk with them,” Vax mumbles. It’s only here, in the safety of their home, that Keyleth feels free and secure enough to voice her thoughts and, on several occasions, she has voiced how much she hates the council and their blocks to her plans, and it’s not that Vax prefers violence, but he has offered his assassin services to her on multiple occasions… or at least just enough to scare them off. 

“This is my battle, Vax,” Keyleth replies sternly, as she always does. “But thank you. I appreciate the offer.” She leans in to kiss his cheek.

Vax picks up Keyleth’s empty plate and mug and sets them on his nightstand with his empty dishes. “You know my services are free for you, right?” Vax says, slowly crawling towards Keyleth. 

“Oh? They are?” She smirks. Keyleth hooks a finger under Vax’s chin and pulls him until he’s kneeling between her legs. “What kind of services are we talking about, then?”

“Oh, you know… All sorts of… services,” Vax teases feather-light touches over Keyleth’s shoulders, dragging down the thin straps of her nightgown. “Oops,” He smiles as the fabric falls down Keyleth’s torso and pools at her waist, exposing her breasts.

“I hope these ‘services’ are also exclusive for me,” Keyleth cocks an eyebrow, amused. 

“Of course, love,” Vax murmurs, locking his mouth with the column of Keyleth’s neck. She twists her head to the side to allow him an easier access, which Vax gladly takes.

“I assume… you don’t have to… rush to work… this morning?” He asks, trailing kisses up her jaw between words.

“I took the day off. I felt like I had to compensate you for all the late hours,” Keyleth manages to say with a raspy breath. Vax smiles victoriously as he reaches her mouth. 

“Well. We should make the most of this free time, then.”

Every day, Vax finds a different reason for why he loves Keyleth so much, and every day the woman finds a different way to show him just how much she loves him. Today she does it not only in the form of a somewhat lazy morning, spent with their naked bodies intertwined in bed, but also in the form of a nice, summer breeze coming in through the open window, cool enough to make the newly-added heat of their bodies more bearable for Vax.

[asexxxualerotica]

Korrin, Seranna, do you two have types?

Korrin: “Do you need to ask?”

Serana: “Big. Handsome. Orc.”

Korrin: “With a mid-Reach accent.”

[vaxxymachina]

Okay so this is more of a silly post than anything, but is still true to my fanon in the end.

Basically... Vax, but he keeps accidentally getting adopted.

Vax's many parents:

Elaina Heatherwood (human) -

Vax's biological mother

-

Syldor Vessar (elf) -

Vax's biological father

was abusive to Vax (and Vex) though, so Vax doesn't actually consider Syldor as his real father

-

Devanna Illean (elf) -

Syldor's ex-wife

Vax's stepmother

loves Vax as her own child

Vax loves her as another mother alongside Elaina

-

Scanlan Shortfoot (gnome) -

Vax's best friend and surrogate father

is married to Pike

-

Pike Shortfoot (gnome) -

Vax's best friend and surrogate mother

is married to Scanlan

-

Mr & Mrs Gilmore (humans) -

Vax dates their son, Shaun

they adore Vax a lot

they have threatened to fist fight Syldor if the man ever hurts Vax or Vex again

-

Vilya & Korrin (half-elves) -

Vax dates their daughter, Keyleth

they adore Vax a lot

they have barred Syldor from ever visiting Zephrah so it's always a safe place for Vax and Vex to visit

Vilya has promised to kill Syldor if the twins ever ask her to do so for them

-

Purvan Suul (demigod) -

Vax’s soul father

he accidentally created Vax while healing Vex's soul after Elaina was almost killed by necromantic cultists while she was still pregnant with Vex

Vax sees Purvan as his real father

-

The Matron of Ravens (god) -

Purvan’s partner

Vax's stepmother

Vax becomes her champion eventually

loves Vax as her own child

-

The Wildmother (god) -

Vax was raised to worship her as a kid

she sees and dearly loves all life on Exandria as her children

she empathises with Vax

she loves how Vax loves and explores nature

-

The Archeart (god) -

Vax was forced to worship him as a teenager

they look a lot alike

he empathises with Vax

he sees himself in Vax's love for magic and art

-

The Everlight (god) -

Vax worships her secretly

considers her champion, Pike, as her daughter

Vax is her champion's friend and surrogate son

she empathises with Vax

-

The Dawnfather (god) -

sees his champion, Vex, as his daughter

Vax is his champion's brother

he empathises with Vax

-

The Knowing Mistress (god) -

considers her champion, Scanlan, as her son

Vax is her champion's friend and surrogate son

she empathises with Vax

(now I need to commission art of Vax surrounded by his loving parents while Vilya and the Gilmores glare at Syldor who stands off to the side sulking)

///

[blorbologist]

😭 hello! im doing something dumb, and would appreciate your saddest headcannon

hmmmmmmmm no character specified, so it's hard to dig around for my Saddest HC. I'd rather keep my very worst in my back pocket for fics of my own ;3 so hmmmm

Though Korrin and Keyleth love eachother dearly, I don't think they've been close for a while. By necessity, partially - Keyleth had to train for her Aramente, and Korrin had to lead the Ashari in the interim... and maybe they each saw too much of Vylia in eachother. Keyleth's resemblance is obvious, but in her father she sees absence: the place on the stupidly small side table he still reserves for her cup, how he'll breeze through seasoning a meal until he rushes to get it right at the end without his wife's keen taste, how he'll wander around with ceremonial garb half-finished before finally getting it all together in a shaky quiet, how he still brews too much of the tea Keyleth hates and he hates but Vylia loved.

They do get closer over the timeskip - he has time, now, to think and mourn properly. And Keyleth can help: mantling the responsibility, yes, but also by just being Korrin's daughter again, by looking to him for advice beyond the fate of their people. And Vax, in his way, can help: as the Raven Queen's Champion, he is familiar with death and grief and processing that end, now. He can mediate when the pain becomes too much for them both, and slink into the shadows when it's just this too-small family again.

Korrin and Keyleth truly understand eachother, though, after Vecna. After that... after that, they are closer than they were when Keyleth was a little daddy's girl enraptured by little breezes.

It's too great a cost, sometimes.

(Keyleth will cry over Vax, which Korrin will try to comfort only to remember the ache that is still so new even twenty years on and then he's crying, and there's nothing worse than seeing your father sob so hard he shudders, and there's nothing worse than your daughter wailing and feeling it's your fault.)

[frees-erotic-writings]

The High Elf queen gets her tits fucked by a strong half-orc while his vampiric lover watches.

"Have you no shame?~" Senya asked, as a deep red blush coated her cheeks. She was refusing to look at the half-orc, despite loving the feeling of his large thick cock pumping between her large soft breasts. "Doing this to me, right in front of your lover~"

"Neither of us have any shame~" Korrin cooed, smirking as she watched the entire scene unfolding. "The amount of times, I've done something to my darling in public~ Or the amount of women I've encouraged him to have his way with~"

Senya's blush deepened at Korrin's declaration. The High Elf queen felt herself become more aroused. "I still do not-ah!~" Senya gaspped when her upper chest, face and hair was covered in Nadûr's cum.

"Now you can't tell me that wasn't enjoyable~" Korrin giggled. A hand snaking between her own legs.

"No, that I enjoyed~"

[just-a-funny-little-brain]

Unmarked Cairn

Critical Role: Bells Hells, Orym, 1.4k words

Summary: The flowered valley just north of Zephrah holds many stone cairns and even more memories. Here are a few of Orym's.

tw: mentioned canonical character death, grief

Read it on ao3

———

There’s an unmarked cairn in the flowered stone garden. 

Orym notices it the third time Alma brings him to visit the garden. 

“Death is simply a piece of life. It’s important to understand both and not be afraid of it.”

The young halfling hadn’t understood the first time, and he’s not sure he understands now, but he’s here in the garden, and the flowers are nice.

“Who was Findal?”

Alma smiles. “They were one of the hardest working farmers down in the Talam area. They had such a way with goats, as soon as anyone had an issue with theirs, Findal was the first they went to. They had a laugh you could hear for miles.”

“Did you deliver them?”

Alma laughs and tussles Orym’s hair. “No, they were around for a long time before I came along.”

Orym ducks from beneath his mother’s hand and skips around stones of different heights to find a name with a new story. 

Soon one catches his eye. It stands away from most of the cairns. While most of the others have names engraved facing the path, the dark stones are blank.

“Mama? Who’s this?”

Alma’s gentle smile fades and she places her hands on his shoulders. “The Tempest created that one recently. Nobody knows for certain who it’s for, though. Someone very special to her.”

“Is it her dad?”

The smile returns. “No, silly, Korrin’s her dad. You know that. Come on, it’s almost lunch,” she says, gently directing the boy back home.

——

The first autumn after Will officially asks Orym on a date, they decide, at Derrig’s encouragement, to attend the Night of Ascension ceremony in the Memory Garden. The Garden is modestly but beautifully decorated, with seasonal flowers and mosses covering the cairns and lining the walkways. 

It had been a long week of training, and Orym’s muscles ache as he matches Will’s stride. Will glances down at him and grins.

“Gotta work on those leg stretches more so you can get taller and keep up,” he teases. 

“I’ll do that once you finally beat me up a tree,” Orym retorts, bumping Will’s hip. “Or maybe once you’re better with the skysails.”

Will laughs. “Okay, okay. Here, how about when either of us wins a spar against Dad?”

Orym smiles and reaches up for his hand. “It’s a deal.”

They find a place among the crowd near Orym’s grandmother’s cairn. It’s worn with loving touches and is currently decorated with a woven circlet of flowers draped over the namestone. Orym places one hand against the smoothed riverstones, a cool contrast to Will’s warm hand in the other.

The gathering quiets respectfully as the Voice of the Tempest steps forward from the crowd to welcome everyone and begin the ceremony.

As the sunlight begins to fade, luminescent insects begin to appear and gather at the flowers on each cairn. It’s a nearly perfect night for the ceremony — calm winds, cool air, and not a cloud to hide the stars that have just begun to blink through the sky. Orym glances up before nudging Will to look to the northeast. 

“It’s us,” he whispers.

Will looks up and smiles at the sight of the two moons. “Yeah,” he says softly, squeezing Orym’s hand.

Soon, the ceremony draws to a close, and Orym and Will kneel by the cairn. Slowly, Orym reaches his hand out towards the stone, and the glowing insects move towards the warmth of his skin. 

“Hi, Granny,” he says softly. “A lot’s happened. A lot’s changed, but... also nothing’s changed.” A smile tugs at his lips. “Will and I are dating now. You always said we were like one big family, and now we really are. Or, will be.” He thinks for a moment. “Mom and Nel are doing well. Leeta keeps trying to make your cookies, but they’re never quite right. We miss you, and we love you.” He looks to Will.

Will, despite his best efforts, has hardly any bugs on his hands. “Come on...” he mutters. 

Orym smirks. “See, even the glowbugs think you have cold hands.”

With a groan, Will lowers his hands, and the few accumulated insects flit over to Orym’s hands.

“You can double my hands,” Orym says with a smile.

Will sighs. “Yeah, all right. You halflings always run so warm, it’s not fair!” he says with a fake huff and a smile. 

Orym laughs softly. “Come on, before the glowbugs start thinking they live here now.”

Gently, Will wraps his hands under Orym’s, and after a quite count to three, they fling their hands into the air. In a burst of light and color, the glowbugs scatter, carrying the love and wishes of Zephrah into the night.

——

The Raven Tree is in full bloom on Orym and Will’s wedding day. The ceremony is beautiful and joyful, full of family and friends, and afterwards the whole of Zephrah joins in celebrating.

As the evening grows, Orym squeezes Will’s hand to get his attention.

“We should visit the rest of the family.”

Will nods, and the pair excuse themselves from the festivities.

The walk to the Memory Garden is quiet, a refreshing break from the chaos they leave behind. Buds and blooms line the path, enveloping the pair in a warm, gentle fragrance as they approach. 

Slowly, methodically, the two weave along well-worn paths, pausing for family and friends to extend the ceremony to each. Finally, they make their way to a fallen tree that had been carved into a bench years ago. 

Orym leans against Will’s side as he sits and lets out a sigh. 

Will laughs softly. “Yeah. It’s a lot.”

Orym smiles. “Yeah. Nobody I’d rather do it with though,” he says, bringing Will’s hand up to kiss the new ring that now decorated a finger.

“Mm.” Will drapes his arm around Orym’s shoulders, pulling him close.

The evening is quiet for a few minutes. Slowly, then faster, stars peak through the darkening sky. Orym points out the large crescent moon dwarfing its smaller red partner, both just skirting the horizon. 

“Moons are rising.”

“They’re just getting started for the night. Just like us,” Will says with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Orym laughs. “Oh gods, not here, Alma might kill me if she finds out.”

“She doesn’t need to find out!” Will protests, his face the picture of innocence. 

Orym rolls his eyes with a smile. “Maybe on a night when we’re not expected back soon. Maybe .”

“It’s a deal,” Will says. “You know, someday? We’ll be old men and just sit out here all day. Watch the Skysailers during the day, and watch the stars at night.”

“And the moons.”

“We can show the moons what’s what.”

Orym laughs. “We’ll do just that.”

——

Orym is half asleep and fully drunk when a dark shadow approaches down a path of the Memory Garden. 

He doesn’t notice it at first, as the tears sting and blur his surroundings. Two new cairns make for drunken pillows, even as the sharp edges of fresh engravings carve into his skin. The stinging stone is a sad mockery of the gaping hole in his chest, threatening, promising to consume him where he lies.

A gentle wind raises his head. The silhouette is tall, a textured dark cloak obscuring the details as it trails behind.

A raven caws at the shadow of Catha, the dark new moon leaving Ruidus alone in its wake.

A hiccup escapes Orym’s chest. “Er… ‘re you here fer me too? I din’t... I couldn’t...” A sob punctuates another hiccup. “I couldn’t stop it... I don’... ‘f you take me too -- hic -- do I go where he is?”

The figure turns towards him and tilts their head. “Orym?”

Orym blinks. The voice itches in the back of his mind… something important…

“Orym, why are you here? It’s the middle of the night!”

The voice… it’s someone he knows? Important…?

“So y’r not the… the Raven… Mater… Queen Raven…?”

The figure lets out a harsh laugh. “I most definitely am not.” The figure sighs. “Gods you’re drunk.” The figure crouches before him with a grunt and begins to mutter quietly.

That voice… “What’re you…?” 

Orym blinks, then groans as a pounding pain hits his head. The voice… The Voice. 

Shit.

Orym reaches for Derrig’s shield and scrambles backwards to try to stand. “Temp— Voi— Key—“ He wipes his face and snot and tears smear across his leathers. “I’m so sorry, I-- I shouldn’t be here, I—“ 

The excuses die in his throat as Keyleth gently pulls Orym into a hug. Orym stiffens, but moments later, the exhaustion of the past week takes over.

Keyleth’s arms tighten around the sobbing halfling. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so, so sorry.”

[waltwhitmansbeard]

chapter eight

Three days after her Westruun trip, Keyleth returns home in the evening at the end of a marathon of meetings to find her father waiting outside. This is hardly unusual; Korrin is almost always hovering somewhere near the door, trying not to seem like he’s worrying. Tonight, though, he’s got a funny look on his face, the kind that suggests a conversation needs to be had before going inside. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says unconvincingly. “It’s not bad. I mean, I don’t think it’s bad.”

“Oh gods.” Keyleth pushes inside, where she’s greeted by the distant, unmistakable sounds of arcane magic from somewhere up above. 

“We probably should have asked first!” Korrin calls after her as she scurries as fast as her wobbling legs will take her upstairs. It’s not hard to follow the low bangs and shuffling all the way toward her bedroom, or rather, the room next to it, which she opens hesitantly. 

“No, not yet!”

But it’s too late. Keyleth stands in the doorway, staring at Gilmore with a slack jaw. He’s frozen in the middle of the room, the setting sun illuminating him from behind like a halo, his usual purple robes rolled up to the elbow and his beringed fingers waggling in the air as he levitates an ornate rocking chair near the window. He grins sheepishly. “Surprise?”

The room is…transformed. Keyleth’s known for some time now that this is the room she’ll be using for a nursery, given that it’s right next door to her own, but she’s been putting off actually doing anything with it, given the general state of her life. Now, instead of bare walls and a plain wood floor, the room has come alive, with vines climbing up toward the ceiling in swirling patterns and thick, mossy rugs of every shade of green and furniture, which, she admits, is probably important. A crib of white oak and a matching armoire in the corner, each hand-carved with intricate botanical patterns and the symbol of the Ashari—the aforementioned rocking chair, plushly padded and now magically rocking on its own—a pair of raw wood shelves laden with children’s books in several languages, including Celestial, which she has to imagine comes from Percy—a changing table exactly the right height for Keyleth, with a mysterious door in the side—hanging from the ceiling, just above the crib, a delicate mobile of black birds that circle round and round by either mechanical or arcane means, she can’t be sure. 

Her throat is instantly thick. The room is beautiful, absolutely stunning, full of life and light and joy. The more her eyes roam around, the more details she spies that nearly take her out at the knees. The stuffed bear in the crib, covered in tiny pink bows. The toy lute tucked among the books. The blanket draped over the back of the rocking chair, embroidered with the sprawling branches of the Sun Tree. A bouquet of snowdrops on a side table in a water jug that looks remarkably like the one Grog liked to eat mayonnaise from. A miniature golden robot, quill in hand, on a shelf. The small wooden raven perched at the head of the crib, its long beak curving down in stoic watch over the bed inside. 

Gilmore crosses over and gently hooks his arm in hers to pull her inside. “I didn’t get the chance to catch up while you were in Westruun, but that’s fine, because it gave me the opportunity to do this.”

“Gil…” she chokes out, nose snotty and eyes wet. “It’s…it’s just…”

He pats her arm. “Let me give you a tour.”

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