#he tends to act a little different when he's Jester and the confidence and the way he's so smug and um. also masks are hot-

[silverselfshippingchaos]

goodness me...

[wardensantoineandevka]

Honestly I never got where in-game the idea that Fjord was copying Cad came from. Maybe a little bit, like aesthetically in that he wore a pin Cad gave him, but that was already aquatics themed so I dunno.

Obviously they’re pulling from him starting to follow the Wildmother, but that seems way overblown. Not all worshippers or servants of a goddess are the same, and their relationships with the Wildmother were majorly different with Fjord being given a proactive code to live by when he swore his oath (which was basically what he had already been doing) and Caduceus being much more conservative and receptive.

Not to be harsh, but Caduceus was pretty ancillary to Fjord’s development! Their most interesting theological discussions hinges on them disagreeing, like their conversation about nature and deception. Interacting with Caduceus was part of how Fjord began to picture the shape of how he wanted to be, but framing that around Cad really misses the point.

Same, I also don't know where the idea that Fjord was strongly and simply mimicking Caduceus came from and that all aspects of Fjord's devotion are derived from Caduceus. There ARE some moments during the period where Fjord was testing the waters where Fjord is doing as he believes Caduceus expects of him or purposefully doing something evocative of Caduceus, usually framed for comedy (which feels important to note), but in the end, it feels very pointedly expressed that Fjord and Caduceus follow very different forms of the same goddess and that their worship practice and devotion are ultimately not all that recognizable to one another.

I feel like a lot of fandom commentary got stuck in the (very brief) period where Fjord was tentatively and consciously exploring his relationship with Melora using the structure and cues Caduceus provided with a deliberate mind for what was and wasn't working for him, and instead of moving with Fjord into the period where he dropped much of it, the commentary instead doubled down on it and insisted that Fjord was mimicking Caduceus and copying him without conscious reflection on the motion, that he was simply just parroting Caduceus because Caduceus knew so much better. (There is a massive difference between taking cues with conscious intent to explore if it fits you and simply mimicking and copying, just to make that clear.)

I do think that Fjord does accept some aspects of religious practice from Caduceus: most notably in that Fjord learned to meditate as a means to quiet the mind, engage in active listening with Melora, and offer his questions and reflections and prayers to her. Fjord clearly finds this meaningful, as he continues to engage in it going forward, albeit in a less formal and rigidly ritualistic manner. (I have a whole thing in me about how Caduceus and Jester are ritualized practice and Fjord and Yasha are not, but that's separate.) And there ARE moments where Fjord is doing as he believes Caduceus expects, but it very quickly falls away as Fjord finds his footing and it's clear that Fjord feels uncomfortable, as in it doesn't fit quite right, attempting to take these cues.

Like, I do agree that Caduceus is ancillary to Fjord's development, in that it supports rather than makes up the whole, and we are in agreement on the supportive part Caduceus plays—I seem to weigh it a little more heavily though, but the point is the same. But, yes, speaking with Caduceus is how Fjord is encouraged to be secure his own judgment and to trust in his own strength of character, that he is both principled enough to direct himself toward what is good and just and capable enough to seek that out and step toward that end. Caduceus' confidence and advice is important in Fjord learning to have faith, not simply in Melora, but more importantly in himself. And there's a massive point made to Fjord, explicitly: he has the answers himself, and he need not look to others, including Caduceus, for guidance on everything because he has a strength of judgment that he can trust and listen to.

Caduceus is not AS central to and all-encompassing of Fjord's development as a character and in the development of his worship practice as he is often made to be in fandom commentary. Framing Fjord's entire development as a person and of his practice around Caduceus indeed misses the point.

Caduceus seems unsettled by Fjord's description of the sea and his love for it in its consuming, humbling, relentless thalassic indifference. (At times, it feels like Fjord worships Melora as a primordial force. I also have a whole thing on how different Caduceus' "violence is natural" is against Fjord's description of the indifferent violence of the sea—because that's fascinating, and it feels like Caduceus' conception of natural violence is, well, still gentler.) They, as pointed out, have a major point of disagreement over whether honesty is an immutable good and deception an immutable bad. They seem to have disagreement on who can serve as judge and judgment, on whether the world tends toward where it is meant to be or if the world remains as it is until toil and work changes its course, on whether justice comes around eventually in its time or justice waits until fetched and called by name. Fjord and Caduceus are philosophically centered differently around change and mutability.

On top of that, they are a classic juxtaposition of the central philosophical contrast between a paladin and a cleric. To be the sword and to be the voice, one who acts and one who listens, a divine fury and a divine comfort, to wade through the mud to deliver others and to uplift others from their darkness. Their service to the same god only deepens the contrast between them there.

And I think that, yes, framing Fjord's entire development as a follower of Melora and the development of his practice around Caduceus, especially in just casting it as he was simply copying Caduceus, is incredibly reductive. It diminishes the massive and stark philosophical differences between them. By positioning Caduceus in this manner, it also often elevates Caduceus' philosophy to be always correct, always superior, and Caduceus already has a self-righteousness flaw; Caduceus learns just as much from Fjord, and his philosophy isn't as pristine perfect as he likes to think it is. It reduces the amount of agency Fjord has in this, and it makes Fjord's journey so much less poignant because it diminishes the mindfulness with which Fjord engaged with himself and Melora and this practice.

[saphirered]

Can I request the Mighty Nein funding out the reader had been hiding a kinda injury

I hope it turned out the way you wanted it! Thanks for requesting 😘

(Caleb)

Caleb is no stranger to physical injury and has embraced his squishy wizard nature. You however have covered up many injuries in the past, letting them heal on their own as you always had before you had handy clerics around to fix you up. Old habits die hard and unlucky for you, when he’s not nose deep in a book Caleb will see right through your brave face act.

Upon finding out you’re injured Caleb would simply sit you down. He’ll take it upon himself to tend to your injury despite your best efforts to convince him you’re fine and it’s just a scratch. He knows better.

Silence. You’ve never managed to get a word out of the wizard when he’s caring for your ailment. He’s completely focussed but will listen to you talk so his silence is not rooted in concentration.

Caleb won’t mention your injury to anyone. It will be your little secret but you’ll be able to catch him staring at you, and when you meet his eye he’ll give you a little half smile; a nonverbal ask to see if you’re alright.

(Beau)

Training accidents happen but hardly ever exceed bruises. A sparring match gone wrong may have ended with you getting a bo-staff to the ribs with a little too much force but you play it cool. It’ll be fine. Just some bruises. You assure Beau you’ll sleep it off and it wasn’t that bad.

Beau’s not entirely convinced and definitely pries until you come clean. Persuasion isn’t Beau’s strong suit but she makes some solid arguments, and threats that leave you forced to reveal your secret.

Upon seeing the injury Beau will curse like a sailor, telling you you should have told her. Best not to mention the trouble breathing… Wether you want to or not she’ll go get the clerics to fix you up despite any and all protests.

Beau will keep grilling you for weeks, bringing your injury up as ammo in any argument she needs won and will keep a close eye out. She’ll refuse to spar with you but we all know Beau likes her training and with you being one of the very few actually able to keep up (sorry Fjord) she’ll give in and beg you to train with her again, this time more mindful of her actions.

(Fjord)

Fjord may play cool but he tends to be a worrywart and when he already has enough on his plate you be mindful not to stress him out by facing him with anything else. That includes you getting a pretty heavy hit from an enemy in combat.

Back on the ship you resign yourself to the lower deck and cargo hold duties as to stay clear of Fjord’s direct line of sight. You’d take the crows nest but an injured leg will do you no good climbing.

Bad weather and a leg injury at sea do not mix well and you, being slammed into the side of the ship unable to get back up sends Fjord in overdrive. He’ll help you below deck to a safe spot and prepare for basic care until one of the clerics can come fix you.

Fjord’s seen enough injuries; others’ and his own and knows well enough what you got didn’t come from your little tumble. He’ll be extra tentative but scold you for not saying anything and telling you you should tell him in the future.

Regardless of the clerics’ opinions he puts you on bedrest for the next few days until he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. Don’t count on being allowed to go up to the crow’s nest for a while though.

(Veth)

Having taken a tumble down the stairs while reading a book and conversing with Caleb (who you had to swear to secrecy) you deliberately stayed clear of Veth unless you had any sort of object to lean on to support yourself.

It’s more out of embarrassment you’re hiding this one even though your ankle hurts like a bitch. Every time you, Caleb and Veth are in the same room you’re sending the wizard death glares when he holds back a comment or laugh at your desperate attempts to keep this a secret.

Veth’s a mom and if there’s one thing moms are good at it’s figuring out when someone’s hurt. The moment your facade falls through, she’ll go into overdrive, pushing you to lay down on a couch or similar soft surface area, rushing to get you extra pillows and the likes.

Be prepared to have Veth hoover over you until you’re in the clear. She’ll do whatever she can to make you comfortable and brings you some trinkets to pass the time. Maybe don’t ask where she got them because they were definitely not in her previous possession.

(Jester)

It was gonna be an epic move! You’d jump down, weapon at the ready to stab down into the creature; death from above! Didn’t go as planned as you got swatted out of the air by the creature before you could strike down.

Luckily no one saw. After the battle you just claimed the plan fell through and you had to improvise. Meaning, you gritted through the pain of being rag-dolled into a cavern wall, got back up through the pain and back to battle.

If only Jester hadn’t asked you to help harvest the monster parts so you could sell them. You could barely carry your weapon, swinging it; different story. But Jester is persistent and you couldn’t just refuse the cute blue tiefling so you obliged gritting through the pain hoping no one would notice you taking a quick breather every so often.

Jester did notice and came to inspect your work, with a tap on your shoulder you feel a radiant warmth spread through you, making breathing and moving in general a lot easier. A thanks is in order and you’re sort of glad Jester keeps this on the down-low.

“Next time just tell me, okay?” Jester makes you pinky promise and you know that’s binding so you better keep your promise.

(Caduceus)

There’s a reason why you leave the cooking to Caduceus. You’ll happily cut some vegetables but try to stay away from anything else throughout the process of preparing food. When Caduceus asked you to watch the stove and add some spices to the food as he rushed to the pantry to get some more ingredients you were worried…

What should you do? Caduceus didn’t tell you how much to add of anything. Maybe you can just sniff the spices? Yeah, that sounds right. Opening the small jars and pouches one by one go through. You add a little of the fragrant ones and a bit more of the neutral spices.

One sniff of a red flaky powder sends you into a coughing fit, your airways burning like a blazing fire. Water doesn’t help. If anything it makes it worse. You get your breathing and cough under control but you do not trust your voice and scalding throat so when the firbolg returns you keep quiet.

No responses from you are a bit odd and what were you thinking you could keep anything from this man. Caduceus calls you out on your behaviour asking questions that need words and not nods, shakes, shrugs or the likes.

Upon you trying to talk he immediately knows what happened. Putting on a quick brew, in a short time you’re presented some tea to remedy your burning throat. It may not be your worst injury ever but it surely is an uncomfortable one. You gain a new appreciation for the dead people tea.

(Yasha)

You felt like you couldn’t do anything but try to hide the bleeding gash on your side, luckily covered by your clothing. Yasha had already gone through enough, last you needed her to deal with is the knowledge she injured you severely when under the control of someone else.

Back to normal you head into the next fight. For some reason you’re faltering and making mistakes you otherwise wouldn’t. Yasha notices and will be at your side in an instance to defend you but a single enemy blow sends you unconscious.

You can confidently say that opening your eyes to a raging barbarian pouring the contents of a healing potion down your throat is one of the most terrifying and admirable moment’s you’ve witnessed in your life.

Yasha asks when you got the cut since your bloodstained clothes don’t 100% add up. Tempted to come up with an excuse Yasha has you figured out. Prepare for endless apologies and a guardian angel watching over your shoulder threatening anyone with even remotely malicious intent into thinking twice about their actions.

(Mollymauk)

Molly will pretend he hasn’t noticed you’re hiding anything when he’s caught on you are being secretive. You’re entitled to your secrets.When he finds out you’re injured that’s no different. Unless it’s something that could be the death of you he’ll play along. You’re stubborn so you get to feel the consequences of your stubbornness.

He’d ask you to help him with this new routine he’s been working on or push you to spar with him. He’d make sure you have to pay extra mind as to not make it hurt as bad as your injury does when resting because that’s when the severity of your injury becomes clear to him.

Molly would deliberately make everyday tasks a little harder. You’re doing dishes? could you carry the heavy tub of water? Setting up camp? Keep pressure on this or hammer that into the ground. Will put your things out of your reach where you’d have to climb or jump to get them.

He’ll keep these shenanigans going until either you come clean about your injury or he really gets worried to the point he’ll have to step in for your own wellbeing. The former usually occurs leaving him smug and willing to carry you claiming to be your daring saviour.

Depending on the severity of the injury he’ll be a pretty decent caretaker spending time with you and assisting you whenever you need it. When it’s not as bad anymore he’ll be teasing you as much as he can. He won’t make you forget your stubbornness and pride gets in your way of admitting defeat and we all know he loves winning the game.

[xhisokas-harleyx]

Your Hisoka headcanons were so good😭 and i completely agree with all of them- I wanted request something, u can ignore if u want. 🏃

I am just thinking of a scenario where Hisoka got hurt, by someone who 'cheated' in the fight maybe, and his first instinct was to go to his 'friend's place. And Reader helps him without hesitation, they're even worried and stuff. And he is just like "are they just so naive or dumb? Kind? What do they get from this? And tf is this feeling in my chest? A poison maybe-" Maybe hcs? Or an oneshot? Whatever you like to do. Have a good day or night!:)💛 damn i wrote too much lol sorry

This warms my heart. Thank you SO MUCH for your support!!! And no, you did not write too much! I love having my ego stroked ;) 😂 seriously tho I love hearing from you guys!

I love this prompt. I hope that I was able to bring this to life for you, please feel free to request more!

To be honest, I’m not really happy with how this turned out, but I haven’t written in a long time and feel really rusty. I may rewrite it at some point, because I thought of a different way this could also go! At any rate, I hope you enjoy it.

Word Count: 2880 (yeh, it’s a long one :o)

A little song inspiration I had:

As The World Caves In: Matt Maltese

Hisoka x Reader One-Shot: The Man Beneath the Monster

...

Well... this wasn't supposed to happen.

Currently, the jester of everyone's nightmares lay on the ground, golden eyes staring up at the dull night sky while shrapnel and debris etched patterns into his back, remnants of the attack he'd just barely survived. Hisoka didn't normally have much of a problem mowing through his opponents- but then again, they usually didn't possess the ability to play with their enemy's mind. It was insanely unfair, the way he'd been attacked, and while it had been an interesting battle to say the least, Hisoka had barely pulled through.

Admittedly, he was invigorated by the feeling of almost being beaten- save for the searing pain that inched its way through every nerve in his body. Hisoka wasn't usually so affected by pain in general- in fact, more often than not, it gave him a certain indescribable gratification. He tended to brush off the feeling of most wounds he obtained during battle, distracting himself with shuffling his cards or fantasizing about the next battle he'd be facing. Only this time, if he didn't get help, he wasn’t sure there would BE another battle.

Hisoka strained himself to sit up, and looked down at his body, analyzing just how much damage he'd sustained. A deep gash opened up his chest, revealing glimpses of the muscular content underneath, and it was oozing a lot of blood. His arms and legs were burned, and some of the skin was a little charred, which smelled just lovely against the night breeze.

This is going to be difficult to cover with Texture Surprise... he thought, forcing himself a bit angrily to his feet, when he heard the cracking of the joints in his left ankle, indications of a break. He needed medical attention, badly. His gash wasn't going to heal itself, and he would bleed to death within hours if it didn’t get bandaged.

But where could he go? Hospitals wouldn't dare take him- even though he was a hunter, most people wouldn't be caught within miles of him, let alone would provide him any remedy. In fact, most people thought the world would be better off if he were dead anyway.

Maybe they were right.

He chuckled a little at the thought, but as he tried to brush those creeping inner fears off, he soon realized that his normal detached approach wasn't going to work this time. Already, his legs were getting weaker, and his vision was getting a little darker by the second. In that moment of weakness, when he felt the most vulnerable, the magician was puzzled by the singular thought that came to his mind.

Y/N.

She was a girl he’d encountered more than a few times in his travels; not by accident, but through carefully orchestrated meetings he initiated himself. She was strong in his eyes, which was not a compliment that he offered freely, especially to someone who didn’t regularly seek out altercations to smash their enemies. She was strong in a different way- not because of her nen or battle tactics- but because of her resolve. He found it intriguing that she didn’t run at the sight of him (even when he popped up behind her in the park), and he liked that she wasn't afraid to tell him exactly where he could shove his cards, if warranted. Y/N was appealing to him in an indescribable way that made him continue to think up excuses to meet her ‘randomly’- but he could never put his finger on what it was that made her unique. However, through brief conversations and what he considered to be highlights of his travels, he’d gotten to know her only a little, but he hardly had enough contact with her to call her a ‘friend’.

It wasn't like she had any special sort of healing nen. She probably couldn't help him anyway. But if he did bleed out, and his last thought had to be of something...l it might as well be of her.

The pink-haired clown looked to the city up ahead in the distance- he was close to her house already. It didn't take him long to get there; Y/N lived on the outskirts of town in a small place away from most other homes.

It was a place he knew well, although he'd never been inside. He'd spent more than a few long nights watching the residence from the rooftop of a distant neighboring home as he denied his human emotions. He often watched her pack groceries, or try to figure out why her porch light wasn't working (which he certainly had nothing to do with), or watch TV on the couch all alone.

Hisoka quite liked those stupid romantic comedies that played late at night on the local channel. His only opportunity to watch them was through her window- and in his mind, he was sure that she left the subtitles on because she can somehow sense his presence. She usually fell asleep watching those, and missed the part where the hero gets the girl. He always watched that part with particular interest, but he can't figure out what makes the protagonists so special to each other. If there was a feeling that caused them to sacrifice so much for one another… he sure didn’t know what it could be.

But he's not a hero, so why would he know what that feels like?

As Hisoka reached her door and lifted his hand to the doorknob, not bothering to knock, a pang of what could only be anxiety ripped through him. It was well past 2 AM, and he knew she had things to do early in the morning. Their previous encounters had been abnormal, to say the least, complete with him teasing her and being a douchebag. He's been nothing but an annoyance to Y/N, so why would she help him?

As soon as he was about to pull his hand away, the door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking y/n in its place. Hisoka was bent over in pain, holding his chest, but as she startled him a little, he straightened up and put on his mask, acting complacent and confident. He wanted to say something smart and witty like he always does- that always helped to bat the pain away. But his lips wouldn't move- his tongue wouldn't function as he stared at her, unable to reach out in a way that normal humans seem to find so easy.

He felt frozen in that moment. He was normally so deliberately irreverent, but seeing the look on her face made his blood run cold.

Don’t let her see this weakness. It was a plea to himself.

But Hisoka had no choice. He was broken, and he needed her to fix him. He wasn’t used to depending on someone else to save his life, but now his life rested in the hands of someone who most likely despised him.

"...Hisoka." Y/N breathed, her eyes widening as she placed a hand over her open mouth. Only seconds passed before her delicate hands were pulling him inside the door without hesitation. She didn't bother to ask what happened, what kind of trouble he'd gotten into, or whether she would also be in danger. Instead, she sat him down on the couch, laying a pillow under his head for comfort, which he annoyingly refused to use until he absolutely couldn’t hold his head up any longer.

Hisoka was a bit dazed from the loss of blood, and the crimson river was flowing all over y/n's lightly colored couch. He was puzzled by the swiftness of her reaction, and he watched tepidly as she shuffled frantically through the drawers in the bathroom for something to heal him. Though he was on the brink of death, his default deflection of emotions still shone through, a reflex that he didn’t even mean to activate.

“I don’t need your help, you know.” He said with an impudent grin, watching as she began to work on his wounds. “It’s just a scratch. But I can see how badly you want to touch me…” Why was he like this? Here she was, giving up everything to help him (a criminal and the scum of the Earth),yet he can’t so much as even show her an iota of gratitude. He knows, but will never admit that it comes from his inner vulnerability; that fear of getting hurt by these things called emotions. She could just as easily let him bleed to death in front of her; he knows she has the capability to be stone cold. But she won’t… why?

Why?

Y/N could have easily let Hisoka’s false complacency hurt her. But she knows that what he cannot express in his words, his heart cannot truly hide. It was the way he was built, she told herself, and she pushed on through his antics because she wanted to see him safe again. Through the laceration in his tough exterior, she could not only see the flesh beneath, but a glimpse of the man he tried to hide using the monster that he assumed everyone saw.

But she was different.

The jester was confused by her silence. Normally, she would have retorted at his smugness, but right now, she didn’t even seem concerned with it as she began to fumble with cleaning his wounds. The alcohol seared his flesh just as the emotions boiling within him burned his heart. Why would she ever care to help him when he’s been nothing but rude and degrading to her? Could it be that she really can see through the detached front and overbearing persona? Impossible, he’s spent years building that reputation!

Suddenly, he became enthralled with the way Y/N’s eyes focused on threading the needle to sew up his gash. The way that those fingertips danced over his pale skin made him jolt unexpectedly at her touch, exhibiting a softness that Hisoka has never known before. In fact, he can’t even fathom someone wanting to touch him without the intention to hurt him in some way.

The details slowly became a blur in his depressed mental state- but he still analyzed every motion Y/N made.

Oddly, the promised sting of death had never scared Hisoka before; he did as he pleased, without care for his own life nor anyone else’s. But as his vision faded, and he watched her through the gaze of someone nearing death, he realized that he did not want to leave this world yet. He wanted to live- and maybe he wanted to discover and experience what he’d been missing in those movies he’d watched through her window.

With that, Hisoka’s heart began to beat faster.

Blood loss. That’s what it is… Hisoka thought; but he wasn’t stupid; only unwilling to admit that he was beginning to exhibit the same qualities he saw in the protagonists of those hopeless romantic flicks. He was unable to accept that the tightening in his chest was not just because of her stitches pulling his lacerated skin together.

“Are they dead? Did you kill them?” Her voice brought him out of the trance-like state he was in, and his golden eyes focused on her face. Her hands were covered in his blood (which in itself made him feel delightfully feverish), but his gash had been mended, the bleeding stopped for now. Once again, he didn’t say anything. It was unusual for the smug magician to keep his mouth shut.

“Because if you didn’t kill them, I’m going to.” A protective tone dripped into her voice, bewildering Hisoka again. That quality in her voice was both threatening and comforting, and the duality sent a chill up his spine. It inspired him to use his voice, though it had lost some of its signature modulation.

“You have that little faith in me…” A cough escaped his lips before he could smile as if nothing was bothering him at all. “Of course I killed them, my dear.” Somehow, calling her ‘dear’ no longer felt right; that was typically a placeholder, a default name to use for someone he had no connection with, and she seemed to be worthy of more than that now.

As Y/N suddenly dipped to her knees, Hisoka refrained from any lewd thoughts that he normally might have had in such a situation. That sensation in his chest was too distracting to allow this memory to be defiled with something he often indulged in fantasies of. She began to slide the high-heeled shoe off of his swollen foot to wrap it. She began to struggle with ripping the fabric she’d gathered to act as a cast for the bone.

Surely, she knows who I am. Why would she bother to help someone like me? What is she gaining? She knows that with the flip of a card, I could end her life. She’s not even protecting herself in any way. She’s leaving her guard down right in front of me.

Perhaps it was his dark desire to set fear into everyone he came across, or his distorted need to drive away anyone who might care for him, but his body suddenly acted on its own. By instinct, almost as if it were a test of her intention, a card spawned between his middle and index finger, which was right against her neck. With just a slight movement of his knuckles, he could spill her blood. His golden eyes analyzed the way she froze for a moment, and he believed that to be the end of this fragile trust between them. That was until she lifted the fabric she was holding, sliding it along the edge of the card, and cutting it to the perfect length.

“Thanks.” She spoke, beginning to wrap and set the ankle in place.

At that small motion, Hisoka’s discretionary eyes widened, and his lips fell open in surprise. Rather than interpreting his advance as an attack, she’d innocently taken it as an offer of his help. Was this a joke? Was she stupid enough to trust him, or was she bold enough to outsmart his games? Was Y/N this confident that he wouldn’t just kill her? This naive girl at his feet seemed to be the only person in this convoluted world who didn’t see him as a disgusting, heartless monster… and that warmed his icy heart.

“I’m surprised this hasn’t happened before. I know you’re graceful, but high heels are always a recipe for a broken ankle.” She offset the pain of wrapping those bones by talking to him all through the procedure, and it worked wonders. He scoffed, but by that time, Hisoka’s snide comments and emotion-killing thoughts had been expended. Somehow, she’d broken through the barrier that he’d spent so long building around himself.

Unable to ignore his whims anymore, Hisoka reached out to touch Y/N’s hair, the soft delicate strands pleasing his senses. It’s the only movement he can make now, his body weakened from the loss of blood. His gilded eyes were barely open, but they looked directly into hers with an unfamiliar realization. His hand travelled weakly down her face, caressing her cheek with the most delicate touch he could muster, and held her head in his large hand as she froze there. He wondered for a moment if she was afraid, or if something deeper that he cannot see calms her.

A small, genuine smile is all he could muster for her before his hand dropped to the side of the couch, the same couch he watched her curl up on most nights. For once, it’s not a smirk, and it’s not a smug smile- but something she has never seen before- a true smile with good intention behind it. His eyes closed, with uncertainty that they would open in the morning.

After she’d finished her work, she stood up, and looked down at him. The only remaining light in the room was the silent flicker of the television set in the background, which illuminated both of their faces.

“I need you to be alright, Hisoka,” She cooed, unable to know if he could still hear her. He didn’t know if she even realized how much he wanted to kill her right now, because the way her kindness was attacking his heart while his chest was already sliced open was something he should not excuse.

As Y/N’s final healing gesture, she bent over his body gracefully. He was taken off guard when he felt the feathery soft sensation of her lips on his forehead, the kiss of an angel on his clammy skin. As she went to pull away, however, she was startled by the lunge of Hisoka’s hand initiating a death grip on her wrist. He used the last bit of his strength to pull her lips into his, causing her to lose balance and be forced to brace on either side of the couch cushion below him. His lips were cold, but Y/N graciously returned the sensation, and boldly moved to embrace both sides of his face with her mending hands. Before she pulled away, and he passed out, she felt that same smile against her lips.

And in that moment, before he fades away, Hisoka realizes what he’s been missing.

Y/N.

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

Hmm... part two? I KNOW, it’s super freakin’ sappy. I could have taken a lighthearted approach to this (and maybe I will later), but I wanted to kind of challenge myself to write a more depth-driven version of Hisoka. Maybe I bit off a little more than I can chew :0.

Anyway, let me know what you think, and once again thanks to anon for the request! Hope you all enjoyed!

Mac

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Problem with Magic Markers

Soooo Critical Role campaign 2 just ended, I've got major brain rot over it and my wonderful gf gave me a wonderful idea for a fic so! This happened! A gift to @spiky-lesbian who came up with this adorable concept and is just generally an all round wonderful person who deserves the world. Also huge thanks to my ever patient, ever helpful beta reader @minky-for-short

If you liked it too, please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Mollymauk is so proud of Caleb in so many ways and, now they have their lovely lives with their wonderful children, he finds more reasons to be every day.

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Mollymauk Tealeaf had learned many things since he’d become a parent, now five years ago. A short amount of time, he’d used to think, but plenty of time to obtain a lot of knowledge you never thought you were ever going to need in your life.

Like how sandwiches cut into triangles were disgusting but sandwiches cut into squares could be eaten by the hundreds. Like how to make a bath appealing to a toddler with the liberal addition of bubble bath and a willingness to get absolutely soaked playing Sharks with them. Like how a scraped knee and bumped forehead could be cured with his cuddles and kisses alone, like how a promise from him that everything was going to be okay was enough to make it so.

And how silence was very, very worrying.

So when Mollymauk walked past his son and daughter’s room and heard only silence, when he knew for a fact they were in there, he stopped dead. He put any thoughts of getting to go and spend some time with his sewing kit out of his mind. Because he’d been a parent long enough to know that something was up, two five year olds weren’t that silent unless some game was afoot, something they didn’t want their parents to know about. Which meant he should probably at least poke his nose in.

So he knocked lightly on their door, the one covered in whichever drawings they were most proud of that week and a hand painted sign Jester had made for them the day they were born, prettily proclaiming ‘Trinket and Una’s Room!’ amongst a flock of miniature unicorns.

“Sweetlings?” he called gently, “Mind if I come in?”

There was a sudden scrabbling from behind the door and he heard a muffled grunt from Una before Trinket answered hurriedly, “Um...yes! Okay daddy!”

Raising a curious eyebrow, Molly pushed the door back, disturbing the usual scattering of toys left on the floor like the aftermath of a felt based battle. Although it did seem like there was more mess than usual…

Trinket stood in the middle of the room between their two little beds, his backpack at his feet and an expression of perfect innocence on his face that was just a little too polished to be anything but an act. Molly had to admit he’d probably learned that from him.

“Well hello there, little man,” he leaned in the doorway, smiling crookedly, “What game are we playing today?”

Trinket shuffled his feet, “Um...packing?”

“That sounds like a fun game,” Molly’s gentle concern upgraded to full blown wariness, “And where’s your sister?”

Trinket turned a deeper shade of purple, looking down at his fidgety feet that were poking more holes in his innocence by the second, “Um...she...um…”

Which was the point Una helpfully chose to poke her little head out of the backpack, dark eyes blinking curiously and ears flapping, trilling, “Here daddy!”

Trinket flushed guiltily, frowning at her, “Una! I said you had to stay shh!”

Molly took a breath, wandering over to sit down on Trinket’s bed. As his eyes swept around the room, he noted a great deal more chaos in the room. Almost like someone had been going through the toy box and the drawers and bookshelves, hurriedly pulling things out, making quick decisions about what to abandon and what to stuff into a little blue, dinosaur patterned backpack. Molly supposed he should at least be grateful that Trinket saw his sister as worth taking.

“Why don’t you talk to me, babies?” he offered gently.

Trinket swallowed, eyes darting around nervously before the last of the fight went out of his narrow little shoulders and he mumbled, “Daddy...can I tell you a secret?”

Molly had to smile. This was almost a running joke between the three of them, his kids running up excitedly to tell him they had a secret for him before whispering into his ear about some apparently very cool bug they’d seen or that Uncle Caddy had snuck them an extra cookie or that he was the best daddy ever. He loved being brought into their world where everything was brighter and more exciting and there was fun to be found in the smallest things. And where everything was felt so much more keenly.

“Of course you can, sweetling,” he murmured gently, patting the bed beside him, “You can always tell me secrets. Whatever it is, I promise we can make it better together.”

As Una rolled out of the backpack, apparently unconcerned and rather enjoying herself, Trinket clambered up beside him and stood so he could whisper into his ear. Molly tucked his purple curls behind one ear, smiling encouragingly.

Voice already trembling, Trinket leaned in and murmured, “I messed up Papa’s coat.”

Molly absorbed that in silence, feeling his son’s anxious red eyes on him. He leaned back, keeping his face carefully neutral before taking a long, deep breath through his nose, marshalling his thoughts.

“Trinket, I’m not going to lie to you here. We might be in trouble.”

His opinion didn’t change when he actually saw the coat. The coat his husband had been wearing as long as he’d known him and refused to be regularly seen without, no matter how many attempts Molly had made to buy him a newer, less ragged, less musty smelling version. It was more a comfort blanket than just clothing, stained and scorched from numerous spells and spills, old leather worn shiny from overuse. He hadn’t said so in so many words but it didn’t take a genius to guess that Caleb had worn it since before he came to the city. Which meant it had probably come from his parents. And though it was old and faded and stained today, it must have been new when he got it, a costly garment for people like the Ermendruds. The sort of gift that would only be given if your only son was leaving home to join the Academy and wanted to show him how proud you were.

A lot of Caleb’s life was like that. Even as his husband, Molly found himself having to piece things together from passing comments and turns of phrase, things that dulled his love’s eyes and tightened his jaw. Molly had about a quilt and a half’s worth of assumptions and semi-finished anecdotes by this point, telling of a sad and fractured timeline.

But he knew enough to see what the coat meant to Caleb and the place it held in his husband’s black and white, yes or no, yours and mine way of thinking.

The coat that now had a minor gallery’s worth of doodles and drawings scribbled in magic marker across the sleeves and all the way down the back. And if he wasn’t comfortable with Molly washing the thing, he wasn’t going to be okay with this.

Trinket had been fretfully watching his daddy since he’d first pulled the coat out from where he’d guiltily stashed it under his bed. As Molly’s mutely horrified silence dragged on, he only became more and more anguished until he was barely in tears, wringing his tail between his pudgy fists.

“I only wanted to make it pretty,” he whimpered, “Papa will hate me. I won’t be his special boy any more.”

Molly looked up at him, reaching out and putting his hand on Trinket’s shoulder, “Oh sweetling, your papa loves you a lot, you know this isn’t going to change that.”

But he couldn’t stop thinking about the times he’d picked up a pen from Caleb’s desk without thinking much of it, doodling with it until he’d looked up to see his husband gaping at him in scandalised horror. Or the times he’d stolen sips from Caleb’s drink when they were at the cafe, the same way he’d do to any of his friends, but Caleb would frown if he caught him, unable to understand why Molly was taking his coffee?

It was just part of the way his brain functioned, the rules it spat out after absorbing years of poverty and trauma, along with some different wiring that had simply occurred naturally. Mollymauk had learned a long time ago how to fondly work with these Caleb-isms, making concessions where it was best to and encouraging his wizard to gentle the restrictions his brain built when he needed to. It was like tending some kind of creeping vine in a garden, the way he saw it. Sometimes things needed moving aside so it could flourish and sometimes it needed pruning so it didn’t strangle the flowers around it. Caleb had been as brave as Mollymauk could have wished in managing his idiosyncrasies and sometimes he just had to sit back and admire how different the Caleb he lived with today was from the anxious, mumbling wizard he’d first met.

But how much patience he’d be able to muster when it was one of his favourite things in the world, Molly couldn’t say. But he wasn’t looking forward to telling him about it.

“Should I go?” Trinket’s lower lip wobbled, glancing back at his half packed bag, which Una was back inside, the front half this time as she munched away on some snack he must have stashed in there.

“Absolutely not, your papa would never want that,” Molly squeezed his shoulder gently, “We’re going to put the coat in to soak so we can get all this ink out and then we’re going to find him and I’ll tell him what’s happened. But you need to be the one who says sorry, okay?”

Trinket nodded frantically, still clinging onto his tail for comfort, “I am sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I know, buddy,” Molly drew him close and hugged him tight, hating to see him so upset, “But we’ll be laughing about this before long, you’ll see.”

Maybe if he said it confidently enough, he’d start to believe it too.

Caleb wasn’t hard to find for a number of reasons. For one, their apartment was very small and there were only a handful of rooms to look in. But more importantly, it was late afternoon on a day where Caleb didn’t have any reason to go down to the Academy and fulfill his duties as an adjunct professor and when his bookshop was closed, as it was once a week. Which meant there was only one place he would be, in his half of their spare room, either playing one of his video games or reading.

Molly wasn’t quite sure what they’d do when one of their kids decided they wanted their own room and were tired of sharing, meaning Caleb would have to store his books and he’d have to store his sewing somewhere else. Or if they had another kid. He’d been toying with that idea in the back of his mind lately.

Maybe best not to float that idea with Caleb right after this.

Mollymauk could feel Trinket in his arms, his offer to pick him up and carry him having been immediately, breathlessly accepted. He could sense him getting more tense, more anxious, growing heavier against him as Molly knocked lightly on the door.

“Ja, come in,” Caleb’s response was immediate, not even needing to ask who it was or having to pause over whether he wanted to see them.

When Molly went in, Caleb was in the old, ratty wingback chair they’d liberated from some sidewalk when they’d first moved in, Molly announcing teasingly that a future professor needed some grand leather throne from which to smoke a pipe and pontificate. Caleb had blushed and rolled his eyes, not even believing back then that one day he would get the job he’d always dreamed of having, thinking trauma and past hurts had stolen it from him.

So now Molly always got a small flush of pride when he saw his Caleb sitting in that chair.

His hair was getting a little longer these days, it’s auburn tangles pulled into a small knot at the crown of his head so it wouldn’t fall in his eyes. His beard was growing a little thicker too, more than the usual rusty shadow that dusted his jawline. Molly absolutely was not going to be complaining about any of that, he liked his husband looking a little more rough around the edges like when they’d first met.

As soon as he saw them, Molly with Trinket balanced on one hip, Caleb’s face lit up with a smile. His smiles had been rare once upon a time but now just the sight of his family was enough.

“Hello,” he set the book he’d been reading to one side, already expecting Trinket to want to sit on his lap like always, “How are my loves?”

Near Molly’s ear, Trinket whimpered mournfully and pressed his face against his daddy’s neck. It was more than an ache to listen to, Trinket idolised his papa, following him around whenever he could, listening devotedly as he explained his work even when it wandered far off the track that his little mind could understand. Molly had no doubt the attempt to brighten up his coat had been a genuine attempt to make him smile and he couldn’t imagine how much it was hurting his little boy, to think he’d upset the man he looked up to more than anyone.

Caleb’s smile dulled a little, seeing Trinket hesitate, immediately realising they weren’t here for playtime, “What’s wrong?”

Molly exhaled slowly, carefully keeping his voice calm and level, “It’s okay babe, Trinket just...did something he wants to apologise for.”

“Oh?” Caleb frowned a little, eyes still fixed on Trinket, arms still open.

Molly opened his mouth, ready to do the hard part but before he could, Trinket bolted upright and tearfully burst out, “I wanted to make your coat pretty because you always like my pictures and I thought you could take them everywhere not just in your pockets but I made a mess and I’m so sorry papa! I’m really sorry!”

For a moment both of his parents were a little stunned, not quite sure what to say as his rambles tapered off into spluttery sobs. Molly warily glanced at Caleb, looking for any change in his blank, closed off expression, any flicker of discomfort, even anger.

After a few beats, ones that felt longer than usual, Caleb only nodded, getting to his feet. Gently, he reached over and put a gentle hand on his son’s face, catching some of the tears dribbling down his cheek on his thumb.

“Little Kätzchen, it’s alright,” he murmured softly, “Please don’t cry.”

Trinket sniffled, blinking blearily, “You’re not angry? Don’t want me to go away?”

Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, “No! Oh, Trinkie, absolutely not. I’d never want that.”

“But…” Trinket’s eyes were wide, hopeful, wanting to take this relief being offered but hesitant to, “It’s your favourite thing in the whole wide world…”

Caleb chuckled quietly, his smile back with all it’s warmth as he leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Kätzchen, you and your sister are my favourite thing in the whole wide world.”

Molly nearly yelped in panic as he felt the weight of Trinket suddenly leave his arms before realising his son had thrown himself at Caleb, locking his arms around him tightly. He didn’t doubt for a moment that his husband would catch him, only smiling fondly as he gathered Trinket close and buried his face in his hair.

“It’s all okay,” Caleb whispered against the rust red curls he’d given their son, “It’s okay, little one.”

Molly let them have their moment, letting Trinket cry the last of his tears out happily against his papa’s chest, hanging back and feeling his heart thudding warmly against his ribs. Eventually he was their beaming, bright little boy again, if a little damp, wriggling down from Caleb’s arms determinedly after one last little kiss against his papa’s cheek.

“I’m gonna make you a sorry card. The best sorry card ever,” he promised Caleb, already toddling towards the door, “It’s gonna have glitter.”

“Wow, that kid is definitely my son,” Molly observed wryly once his little lavender tail had disappeared around the corner.

“Then you can clean up the mess he’s definitely about to make,” Caleb chuckled, moving into his husband’s arms.

“Hey,” Molly kissed the crown of his head gently, “Well done. I know that must have been hard for you and...I’m really proud of you.”

He couldn’t see it but he could hear the coy smile in his voice, “Well...I meant what I said. Some coat is never going to be more important to me than my kids.”

Molly smiled knowingly, “I know baby….but you know, if you want to scream into that cushion for a little while, that’s okay too?”

There was a short pause before he felt Caleb’s shoulders drop in relief.

“Thank you, Katze…”

“Is it done yet?”

Molly had to fight a smile. He’d explained to Caleb that soaking his coat would take exactly thirty minutes, knowing his husband fixated on time easily, but still he asked every five minutes on the dot. He’d expected nothing less.

“Not just yet, babe,” he repeated, as he had all of those other times, looking up from the laundry they’d been folding so Caleb would have an excuse to hover anxiously in the laundry room, over the tub of hot soapy water and a little rubbing alcohol his coat was submerged in, “Soon though.”

Caleb gave a small grunt, poking a finger into the water curiously like it was some potion he was working over. After a moment, before Molly could turn back to folding the clothes, he frowned.

“This sleeve isn’t in the water…”

Molly’s smile turned crooked, coming over and putting a hand on Caleb’s before he could move the one sleeve into the tub, “I thought maybe you’d want to look at it...decide if you want to keep that one.”

Caleb blinked, not understanding until he turned it a little and saw the drawing his Trinket had chosen to adorn the sleeve with. It was done in bright red, standing clearly against the dark fabric, unmistakable a child’s drawing. There were four figures there, two taller and two smaller. The first had a set of horns drawn a little too large for it’s head, as well as a tail. The second had a long scarf and a scrawled head of shoulder length hair. The next was much smaller, with another set of horns and a tail but the same scribbled hair. And the last was tiny, with voluminous ears and spikes on the end of it’s fingers. All of them had immense smiles and held hands, a lopsided love heart hovering above them.

As the other scribbles and swirls turned into formless ink in the water, Caleb held this one like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Yeah,” he murmured, smiling softly, “I think this one can stay.”

[peach-the-owl]

Hi! Hope you are having a great month! If possible can I make a request with a Godling (Godlings from The Witcher) Reader who travel with the Mighty Nein. How would having such a 'powerful' being (child-like) effect their relationship. Also, just as a guilty pleasure how would Lucien react to them-knowing their 'other' self raised/cared for them?

Since there isn’t much seen about godlings a few things will probably be a little more on the headcanon-y side of what I think they’re capable of. Hope you all enjoy regardless 😁

Godlings

Mighty Nein & Godling!Reader

Jester

Her childlike nature was what originally drew your attention to her, enjoying the little pranks she’d pull on unsuspecting folks you watched from a distance at first but drew in curiouser by the day. You were first discovered by the archfey that lingered near her who also liked to stay hidden, making a few rude comments when he practically shoved you into the open for her to see. When you got to know her better, you and Jester spent a lot of time singing songs together or causing absolute chaos, although you certainly were no follower to the "Traveler" and didn’t plan on it anytime soon. You were her new secret friend, always hiding yourself when another member of her party would come along. When you grew comfortable enough you finally decided you would join your friend on her adventures, much to Jester's delight. Everyone else was surprised by your sudden presence in the group, little was known to them about godlings aside from normally living in burrows, you argued that you were just a bird of a different feather.

Nott/Veth

The goblin reeked of an old crone's curse, you making that statement very clear when you hobble out of your burrow, scaring a few people in the group which you appropriately laughed at. At first they thought you could help break the curse on Nott, and while you did have means of breaking curses, this one in particular was cleverly crafted making it near impossible to break aside from the crone who placed it. You agreed to help them locate the witch seeing as you had nothing better to do and they promised food. Nott found you to be quite adorable with those big eyes and tended to be very motherly around you, now you could argue that you were much older then her but you weren’t going to pass up on this kind of free affection. When the curse was lifted you still decided to stick around wanting to see what all this trouble had been about. Newly freed from her curse, Veth still acted as a motherly figure towards you as she had before, and honestly you rather liked it sticking with her and blessing that good life be given to her family.

Caleb

Godlings were secretive and shy by nature yet kind and helpful so long as you gain their trust or you’ve peaked their interest, and Caleb was a very interesting man to you being almost as secretive as you were. When you made your presence known he was shocked to see such a rare being of once presumable myth approach him, but he also didn’t want to lose an opportunity to learn about your kind in more detail. You made a deal, you'd come along with him and he'd get to know everything he wanted about your kind so long as you got to learn more about him and play with the friendly little kitty he had with him. You were a lot more mature then Caleb expected hearing how godlings normally enjoy mischief and merriment, you told him you did like doing all those things but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be serious too. He learned more about you just by watching you interact with everything around you over you simply telling him different facts about yourself, and grew to really appreciate you more because of it. You grew appreciation and learned a lot about him through his interactions too, the stories he told did help some for context on certain things but you much preferred this visual over verbal learning.

Caduceus

You'd been a guardian for the Clay family and their home for generations, providing protection and care where you could, being given food and tools for your burrow as thanks by them. They were respectable folk, caring for the nature of the woods as much as you did. When the strange blight started plaguing your wooded home you did everything in your power to help push it back, but there was something unnatural about it that even you couldn’t hold it off forever. It got so bad that it overtook your burrow, forcing you out, thankfully the Clays were happy to house you, so while most of them left in search of a cure you stayed back with Caduceus still doing what you could to try taming or at least keeping back the plague. When adventurers came along you acted on the defence at first, being calmed by Caduceus to get a better grip of the situation. They were all surprised to see such a rare and normally secretive being like yourself be so comfortable and open once you'd dropped the defensive act, even more so when you asked if you could join them on their travels. Your home needed help, but it certainly wasn’t going to get any if you just sat there and did nothing, you managed to slow the growth of the strange blight hoping it’ll grant enough time for you to locate the cure you needed.

Fjord

Godlings were known to live in more wooded or boggy areas so finding one living by the sea was a rarer sight then your kind themselves were. You liked the sounds of the waves they were calming and you had many pretty seashells to do with as you wished. When you first met Fjord it was because he mistook your sandy burrow as an animals den, boy was he wrong and the reaction he had when you popped out scaring the daylights out of him was priceless. You smelled great opportunity for mischief from this, popping out of nowhere to scare the poor half-orc when he least expected it until one time when you had you realized the ship you snuck onto to scare him was now sailing across the sea, meaning you were now stuck here. Sure you knew how to swim but you had limits to yourself and would never be able to find your way back to shore. With less places to hide you were almost forced to interact with the crew, which Fjord learned made you rather uncomfortable but since you didn’t mind his presence he decided to pull you off to the side and have a privet conversation. Through this conversation you learned a little more about Fjord and started to grow respect for the guy, promising to stop scaring him so much, but not completely give up on it much to his dismay.

Beau

The Cobalt Soul had research on all sorts of creatures and different species that lived throughout all of Exandria, one of the few things they had little to no information on however were the rare and elusive creatures called godlings. They were beings said to have great power but were usual docile unless provoked, they were so rare some thought them to be only creatures of myth. Beau herself used to think nothing much of them until they were assigned to investigate a home that was "haunted" where she met you. Seeing your big bright eyes and pale blue skin was enough for her to see that you were in fact no myth but the real deal. Itching to get more information and payment for ridding the house of its "ghost" problem Beau was determined to befriend you, problem was she could be a bit aggressive and you were a bit more shy then she’d like. However with enough time and patients she was eventually able to lure you out and convince you to leave the home, promising if you came with her she’d be all the protection you’d need. You still didn’t fully trust her but you liked her confident attitude and her more childish side when she was willing to show it.

Yasha

Big, tough and silent, to you the woman was very intimidating, but she was picking the flowers all wrong so you’d have to suck it up and confront her about it. You march your way over to her and freeze when she turns to look at you, she looked confused by your appearance perhaps she didn’t know what you were but what did that matter right now. You start to scold her over her flower picking and to your surprise she apologizes, offering you one as a sorry, you puff out your cheeks and decline telling her that it was sloppily picked, and if she really wanted to say sorry she’d need to learn how to pluck flowers properly next time. To make sure she wouldn’t ruin the poor flowers again you show her the proper procedure to plucking them, when you were done she offered you a daisy, this one having been picked properly you accept and watch as she leaves. You lived life as normal only to one day see the same woman had returned she looked saddened as she plucked up some flowers, you carefully make your way over seeing she was using the technique you taught her. You sit in front of her and just watch until she finally notices you, you first saw recognition for in her eyes, guess she remembered you, but past that you could see pain, like she’d just lost someone important to her. Now that you thought about it she had a similar look to herself when you first met but this was different, it was recent. You pluck up and offer her a forget-me-not which she slowly takes from you and stores away into a little book, the two of you sit there in a silence of understanding before she eventually leaves again, you never even knew her name.

Molly

He discovered you on accident when the circus set up their show tent right over your burrow and you relentlessly caused problems for them. He felt bad for ruining your home so he asked if you’d like to come run away with the circus instead. You were hesitant at first, but his childish nature was oddly alluring and you’d fit right in with all the other crazy colourful characters so you figured why not. He didn’t quite know what you were and he didn’t really care, the two of you enjoying yourselves and causing mischief wherever you went. When the circus disbanded you were saddened because this was now the second home you lost although this group of adventurers were quite the delight in and of themselves. Still all good things come to an end, and losing Molly was the last straw, not only did these Iron Shepherds take away your friend but they kidnapped innocents and one of them actually ate children. All this infuriated you, and once those who had been enslaved were free people saw just how terrifyingly powerful an angered godling could be when the Sour Nest was reduced to nothing but rubble in the blink of an eye.

Bonus:

Lucien

He was almost jealous that the imposter inhabiting his body at the time had befriended such a powerful and mysterious creature. Knowledge on your kind was almost nonexistent, even the Somnovem had little information, this furthered Lucien’s curiosity and uncertainty. He knew his limits but not yours and from what he’d heard this group you were with talk about you could turn from docile to very dangerous if pushed the wrong way. This could spell bad news for his plans if what they said was true, but could also be a useful asset if on his side. Now all he had to do was figure out how to regain your favour…

[mithrilwren]

Carillon

For @essek-week​ day 6: tower/possibilities. This was a VERY last minute fill, and it was an absolute miracle I got it done before the clock struck midnight, but woohoo, here we are! It’s mostly for ‘tower’, but I think it has shades of ‘possibilities’ as well.

[Also on Ao3!]

“I really do appreciate that you were willing to come all this way.”

“Yes, well,” Essek said, inclining his head slightly. “It isn’t so far to travel for people such as us, is it?”

The blonde-haired woman smiled serenely. Lady Allura Vysoren, member of the Arcana Pansophical, senior member of the Council of Tal’Dorei, a talented and accomplished wizard - all facts he’d committed carefully to memory the night before, after a series of hasty messages to his more worldly contacts. She ushered him from the teleportation circle through an oaken door, into a hallway of fine wooden supports and demure beige paint. “Have you been to Tal’Dorei before, Essek?”

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t. My duties rarely take me outside my home country.” He gazed up at the high ceiling, wondering vaguely which government building she’d transported them to. He knew they were bound for Emon, but he hadn’t had time to collect any information about the layout of the city before Allura arrived to collect him.

“That’s a shame. I do love to travel, when I can.” Her pleasant niceties, far from putting Essek at ease, only amplified his confusion as to why he was chosen for this assignment. The role of ‘Shadowhand’ was exactly as unobtrusive as the name implied - he was no diplomat. His work was best done through intermediaries, if any social interaction was required at all. 

His work with the Mighty Nein was an aberration, but not wholly outside his purview: to gather information about illicit dealings within the Dynasty was quite within his usual set of duties, even if the method was… unusual. But he could not fathom why the Bright Queen would select him to play the role of ambassador, unless his seeming success with the Nein convinced her that he had some special pull with humans that other drow lacked.

Yet again, he found himself teetering on the knife’s edge of civility, trying to maintain his balance in an arena he did not understand. If he had little experience playing the host, he had less being the hosted, and he grasped one hand by the other in a vice grip behind his back as he floated after Allura, following her into a little parlor off the main corridor. She gestured to a chair, and he felt at once foolish to have taken the effort to resume his levitation spell, only to be forced to descend within a minute in order to sit.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” Allura said as she walked to a little table and began pouring cups of tea from a delicate porcelain pot. Beside her, there was a glass door, partially ajar and seemingly leading to a balcony, but Essek could not see past the railing to guess any more about their location. Instead, Essek sank back into the armchair - plush, and upholstered with warm auburn velvetine that complemented the other splashes of autumnal colour within the room - and watched the light breeze from the balcony ripple within the blue folds of Allura’s dress as she finished pouring. 

A receiving chamber, perhaps, for foreign officials? It seemed pleasant enough for it, though nowhere near as grand as the Bright Queen’s throne room. Every so often a shout or cheer drifted up from the street below, also very unlike the reverent silence that he knew so well. Perhaps those things mattered less for a government ruled by a collection of individuals, rather than a sovereign. He had no frame of reference to compare it against.

After handing him a cup, Allura sank into an armchair across from him and took a small sip, just enough to wet her lips, before speaking again. “I hope it’s alright. I tend to drink a lot of tea in the afternoon, but if you prefer something else, I’m sure I can muster it up.”

“This is fine,” he said, and took a sip to prove it. And it was - a pleasant, earthy aroma, subtled by a splash of cream and what he assumed must be sugar. He’d never met anyone besides Jester who preferred sweetness in herbal drinks (or any drinks, in her case), but he had to admit that the flavours melded well. “But- you’ll forgive me, but I wasn’t given much information on the nature of this meeting. What was it you wanted to discuss?”

Matters of politics he had at least a good understanding of, a better one than how to act friendly and convince others to enjoy your company, and Essek was eager to shift to more familiar ground as soon as possible. While he doubted his social graces could net Allura’s esteem, at least he might be able to engage her mind in discussion, and then perhaps the worst of his awkwardness could be overlooked. 

And, for the most part, he believed he succeeded, in the ways that mattered. It turned out the Council of Tal’Dorei had simply wanted a check-in with the Dynasty after Allura’s involvement in the peace talks - a move which he now gathered was only loosely sanctioned by the council itself, though she had seemed quite confident when she arrived before the Bright Queen’s court all those months ago. She meant to shore up relations, and ensure that open communication would continue between their governments. 

He agreed to what he could, proposed options for further engagements, and all in all, performed adequately in his function, but hadn’t quite shaken the feeling he was missing some important detail in all of this - something that might explain why he, of all people, was the one taking part in this conversation. Allura was clearly a skilled diplomat, in addition to her arcane prowess. She projected an air of competence, tempered by a warm, inviting demeanor, but he did not doubt that her demeanor would change were they in her personal tower, rather than within the public eye. Wizards were not known for their hospitality, after all, and the ones he’d met outside himself always guarded their isolation jealously, quick to drop all illusions of civility once they were within a domain of their control. 

“Lady Allura,” he asked as she got up to refill their cups, unable to contain the pressing question any longer. “I’ve enjoyed our conversation today, and I think we’ve made good progress. But… if there is any skillset that I particularly may provide, please, do not hesitate to ask.” There. A way of proposing the question without betraying his own ignorance. The best he could do without surrendering ground in their back and forth. This was, after a negotiation, even if he couldn’t sense the parameters yet. One wizard did not call on another unless they desired something that the other could provide. Even Caleb primarily turned to Essek for help with spells or magic beyond his level, and they were friends - at least, they were.

(He pushed down any thoughts of dinner parties, or good conversation over wine, as the fancies of the past that they were. It was a bitter hope, to believe that there was a different sort of relationship they could have had, one not based on favours and needs. It did not serve him to dwell on it, when his own hand was what quashed that hope for good.)

Allura smiled, setting down the pot on the table. “Nothing of the sort. Truth be told, I actually asked for you personally.” Essek’s eyebrow raised.

“Really.” Though she made no threat, his hand itched towards his wrist, where his components were hidden. Weeks of warnings from Caleb and others in the Nein that an assassination attempt by the Cerberus Assembly might be coming, now that he had outlived his usefulness, had set him on edge. The thought of a powerful wizard with connections both in the Dynasty and the Empire asking to see him personally, and alone? It was worth every  bit of caution in the world.

“You sound surprised.”

“Diplomacy is not my accustomed role.”

“Nor is peacemaking mine, but we find ourselves in strange times.” Allura turned away, looking towards the window and the afternoon sky. “I confess, I still don’t understand the whole of the conflict on Wildemount’s shores. There are shades of grey to every war, and I don’t trust myself to recognize them with an outsider’s perspective. Which is why I asked the Mighty Nein who they would trust to speak to me honestly, and fairly.” She turned back to Essek. “They named you.”

A jolt went through Essek. “When?” he asked, shocked to hear the state of his own voice, strained as it was.

They’d barely spoken in the weeks since the end of the peace talks, other than the warnings about Ikithon and Jester’s occasional messages at inconvenient hours. He’d assumed any ties of trust he’d had with the Nein had been irrevocably broken. Despite any protestations in the Balleater’s hold, he had a hard time believing that No- Veth, or Beau, or even Fjord would count him as someone to be recommended. And yet-

“A few nights ago, when I asked them. I’m glad you were available on such short notice.”

“I as well,” he answered faintly.

And yet-

“Oh no.”

Essek’s head whipped up at Allura’s sudden change in tone to something akin to horror. 

“Is something the matter?”

He stood quickly and floated over to her, scanning the room for any sign of an intruder or threat, but instead he found her staring at a timepiece on the mantle, her eyes tracking the short hand with increasing distress. 

“She’s going to kill me.”

“Who?” Essek insisted, but she was already striding away from him towards the door. 

“How would you feel about a quick tour of the city?” Allura asked, her smile gone from welcoming to hurriedly apologetic in an instant. 

“...Alright.” Strange, but he couldn’t sense an immediate threat. He followed her out the door and into the same hallway, which soon led to a winding spiral staircase leading downwards into a depth of stone. 

“I’m very sorry for the abruptness,” she explained as she walked, “but I promised I would pick something up for someone, and I lost track of time. I’d like to send you off properly, but I also- I really did promise.”

“It’s alright,” he said. “I’m in no rush.” If anything, he was curious to see a bit more of Emon than whatever government building they were in - though, he thought as they continued to descend, it was a strange construction for one. If anything, the layout of the staircase reminded him more of a-

In what seemed like an instant, they were outside, and Essek’s suspicions were immediately proved unfounded. The moment they stepped out onto the street, they were surrounded by bustle - crowded houses, children playing in the street, dogs begging scraps from a food stall down the way. No wizard’s tower would be built so close to the rest of society. They were built for privacy, secluded and elevated above the world. His own house was a half-formed imitation of what he had someday hoped to achieve for himself: gated and lofty, and lonesome.

He didn’t have time to reflect further, or even glance back, lest he lose Allura in the crowd as she hurried away at a breakneck speed.

In the end, he caught up to her on the outskirts of a market, where sellers were just beginning to put away their wares for the coming evening. Essek found Allura at one particular stall, clutching a package of something smelling distinctly briny and looking triumphant.

“Lionfish,” she explained. “They only sell it one day a week, because it’s so hard to keep fresh on its journey from the coast. It’s also my wife’s favourite dish. I would not have heard the end of it, if I’d forgotten.”

“Your wife?” Essek asked, his understanding of Allura shifting in great bounds, like so many shifting cogs whirring into a new configuration. Had he ever met a wizard who was in a partnership, let alone married? It had always seemed to him that a relationship of that kind could only take time away from his work: an unsound investment. Or at least that was a convincing argument, on the days that the loneliness felt like it would suffocate him from within. He almost wanted to ask how she managed it, ambition and love both, but held his tongue. 

“Kima,” Allura provided. “She’ll probably be home by the time we make it back. Maybe you’ll meet her.”

“I’d like that,” said Essek, and found he meant it, which was the most surprising thing of all.

Now that they weren’t in a rush, he was able to get more of a lay of the land. The city was a strange arrangement of highs and lows. It seemed that they were in the high portion, with many houses spread out on the plain below. 

“This is the Cloudtop District,” Allura explained as they walked. Essek had decided to forgo his usual hovering, as his drow appearance was already garnering enough stares from passersby. “It used to be home to the most wealthy citizens of the city, but nowadays there’s a mix of all sorts here.”

“What changed?”

“A horde of dragons razed the city to the ground.” Allura shrugged. “The social divide seemed rather immaterial to most people after that.” She pointed forward at one singular spire, rising above the rest of the mostly one-or-two level dwellings. “Luckily, there was enough space left for me to rebuild the Ivory Tower, and the city’s come up around it.”

Essek stared. It was certainly the direction they had come from, and that they were now headed to.

So it was her tower then, that they had been in. Her tower, that she called ‘home’, that she used to entertain guests, and shared with her wife, and occasionally left to buy fish from a market three streets down. 

“Does it ever feel... crowded?” Essek asked, his own skin already crawling at the proximity of the strangers around him. 

“Sometimes,” Allura admitted. “But I like being able to say hello to my neighbours. I hid my nose in books for so much of my life that it’s a welcome change, for it to be as easy to meet new people as to walk outside my door. It takes some of the work out of it for me.”

That was… not a way that Essek had considered the problem before. He had wondered when he was younger why so many of his peers fell into relationships - platonic or otherwise - without any seeming effort, while he could not fathom how to make a single friend. But he had been separate from the start - isolated because of his mother’s position, and his own talent. Were relationships truly as simple as being in the right vicinity to stumble into them?

He pondered that thought all the rest of the way back to the tower, and up an unfamiliar staircase. “I just want to stick this in the icebox,” Allura explained, “and then I promise, I’ll see you home properly.” He followed her through a new door and into a little kitchen with an adjoining dining room, separated by a half-wall and banister. 

The kitchen itself was fascinating. He got the sense of Allura as an organized individual, but most of the space was pure chaos. Mismatched mugs were haphazardly piled on top of bags of produce and sharp knives were stacked, uncovered, by the sink. Allura’s nose visibly wrinkled as she moved aside a few unopened boxes with her foot in order to open the icebox and shove the package inside.

“Who’s this?”

The new voice caught Essek off guard and he whirled, only to find the air empty at his eye level. He looked down, and found a halfling woman in improbably large plate armor staring up brazenly at him. 

“Essek Thelyss,” Allura supplied from behind him, standing up and dusting her hands off on her skirt. “A guest of mine, from Wildemount.”

The woman didn’t extend her hand, but she gave Essek a good once-over before nodding, apparently satisfied by his look that he wasn’t a threat. He tried not to take it as a snub as the woman shouldered past him to get to Allura.

“Did you remember to get the lionfish?”

“Of course, darling,” Allura said, glancing over the woman’s head at Essek with a look that clearly read I told you so. “I wouldn’t have forgotten.”

Kima, then, and the swift kiss she planted on the back of Allura’s palm confirmed it. “Great, I’ll get started then. Go finish up with your friend, dinner’s in forty.” With that, she was off, pulling pots and pans out with reckless abandon, and utterly unconcerned with either of their presences. It was clear now to Essek that this place was Kima’s, which explained the incongruity with Allura’s neat parlor. 

He thought of his own house, where half the rooms were empty for lack of things to fill them with. He had always wanted to live alone, had never questioned the idea that he would hate to share any part of his home with someone else. 

And yet-

He could understand the appeal now, of sharing a space. Of seeing another person’s marks left over the places they frequent - the dishes in the sink, the paintings on the wall - or to be greeted by a kiss on the doorstep, from someone listening for your footsteps eagerly. It wasn’t a possibility for him, but he thought... he could see it. Why someone would want that. 

Allura sent him back to Rosohna with a promise of future visits and cups of tea to come. By the time he arrived back at his house, it was nearly time to rest, but he headed to his laboratory, intending to check on one of his experiments before closing his eyes for the night. 

The walkways between the different segments of his home were dark, as always, but they gave a good view of the streets stretching beyond his own empty one. From here, he could clearly see the light of Caduceus’s tree, the one beacon in the darkness that surrounded them all, guarding a house too small for seven occupants, but somehow functional, with enough space for all. 

During the day, neighbouring drow still flocked like moths to the flame, walking by the house and trying to catch a glimpse of the strange goings-on inside. He’d never understood the purpose of the tree, when all it did was draw unnecessary attention to the group. He started to wonder now, if that was the goal all along.

His spire was not a tower, but it was removed, just the same. Meticulously organized, just as he liked it to be, but there were still traces of clay he hadn’t managed to scrub from the floorboards. Essek stood on the threshold and saw scattered images of the past: of Nott laying on the floor, of Caleb at the desk, of Jester hounding him for snacks from down the hall. 

They flickered out, one by one, leaving only Caleb, trapped in a scene not from his memory, but from his mind all the same. He watched Caleb stand from the desk and move to the table, beckoning Essek forward. 

“Did you find it?” the shadow Caleb asked, and Essek nodded, heart caught in his throat as he handed over the requested scroll. “Good. Then we can finish tonight.” Caleb leaned over and gave Essek a peck on the cheek, and his lips felt of fog, immaterial and crushing at the same time.

Then he blinked, and it was all gone. Caleb was nothing more than a memory again, and the only proof of his one-time presence were the stains of reddish dirt across the floor.

He stumbled off to his room, feeling unsettled, and deeply tired, with question after question flitting through his mind.

How far would his tower have to climb, so that he couldn’t see the light of that accursed tree from his window?

How long can he pretend that he wouldn’t rather be under that roof tonight, instead of his own?

[whalohs]

i’ve put the entire conversation off for long enough. we’re going to talk about nott, her humor, and episode 50. i’ve seen a lot of really good posts the last few weeks that put it in ways i never could!! but this episode was a little new in terms of what sam did at the table, and i want to yell somewhere. so here we go. warning for length.

as always, my ask box & messages are wide open if you wanna talk about nonsense.

preface: a theory i like to subscribe to is something laura bailey taught me: no one can really be ‘out of character’ in fiction -- no person can always act according to expectations, so who’s to say that characters should? half the fun of fiction, especially in d&d, is exploring character traits and plots that you don’t normally see in reality. and if your character can be a little more human while doing so, then that makes your story that much better!

( what’s important is providing justification for why they acted the way they did; things start getting muddy when you do whatever you want without being able to explain yourself after word, imo!! )

“j weren’t you going to talk about nott” look this was important

so, here are some ways nott was hilarious this ep: 

@ fjord: “... but my husband. we spent 3 months searching for your backstory”

@ caleb: “shut up” / “fuck you” / [ jokingly ] “your people did this”

@ spurt: “YES, MOMMY”

i’m still not sure if this episode was real, i’m forgetting half of it.

but while sam’s good at making light of heavy, tense situations with some really pointed humor that still manages to get us to laugh ( which i think helped all the jokes land ), nott’s humor is different.

her humor plays up how much of a goblin she is, how strange she is, how much she likes stealing or doesn’t like water or how “out of touch” she is with society in exandria ( eating babies, her relationship advice, etc ). these are quintessential nott the brave humor material, and while it’s still funny because there’s a new twist on it each episode, there’s definitely a pattern to it.

this isn’t to say that she lies back and takes every insult hurled at her, but how she tends to joke about herself, ftr!

also note how self-deprecating her humor is. i didn’t really notice until i started throwing this post together, but oh boy.

and then, episode 50 happened. take a second to read my list of nott jokes this episode, then come back.

her jokes were still made her at her expense / their current situation. but ( starting with “your people did this” to caleb ) this episode her jokes... stopped blaming herself? she started calling people out in ways that weren’t insulting, but were still much more bold than nott normally is. 

like she made a mother joke literally after telling the entire party that she had a son. 

i don’t know about you but i was absolutely appalled and losing it when she used “your people did this” on caleb again, or when she pretty much called fjord out the moment he jokingly asked to turn back. like holy shit nott?! you’re fuckin savage?!

she really lightened what could have been a tense mood instead of actively worrying about yeza ( having jester send a message every night probably helped! ). but her humor wasn’t about how much of a goblin she was, but instead it started pointing at the people in her party. 

like, guys, she told caleb to shut up. she thinks caleb is the leader. but she told him to shut his mouth!!! 

i love it, i love this.

was sam suddenly shitposting a lot more often? i mean, sure that could be it, but again i subscribe to the theory that being “out of character” isn’t... really a thing. the beauty of d&d is that everyone has to be constantly “on”, all the time! and while no one can do that perfectly for 4-5 hours straight every week without a script, i do love linking those grey areas back to big character moments.

so why did she do this?

i don’t think this is a sudden boost in nott’s confidence. it’s no secret she’s particularly happy with who she is now. she hasn’t suddenly accepted her goblin body over the course of 3 episodes. 

so, what is it? 

think about how much nott has had to tell the party. in tal’s words - the riegel shoe has dropped. the biggest part of nott’s backstory has been revealed to us, and nott doesn’t have much left to hide anymore. this is it. this is her big secret, the reason she needs caleb, why she hates goblins. 

this isn’t to say everything is out there, because that’s something only sam and matt would know! but i do think her big picture is out there.

and with so little left to lose around the mighty nein, she almost has ... no choice but to get comfortable? she’s stuck with these people, who know why she’s a goblin, in a tunnel that goes straight into “enemy territory” in a couple of weeks. to rescue her husband. they’ve made it extremely clear they’re not leaving her despite all that’s on the line. 

i don’t know if i’d go as far as to say this is nott’s “real” humor? but i do think it is a result of her becoming more comfortable with everyone else.

good old physical proximity coupled with some serious heart-to-heart, y’all.

for the record, i think there’s a difference between caring for the people around you ( which nott is good at ) and being comfortable around them ( which nott really started leaning into this episode ). it’s like how the closer you get with someone, the more you can push your boundaries on humor. 

tl;dr what i’m trying to say is if nott wasn’t ride or die before, she’s definitely ride or die now. she trusts these people with the biggest secret she’s carried with her, and she really would want no one else to rescue her husband with her. she’s more comfortable with the mighty nein than she ever has been, and i’m so happy!!!

am i reading way too much into stupid jokes, i sure fuckin am.

[utilitycaster]

I’ve been thinking about parallels between people’s campaign 1 and campaign 2 characters.

Vax and Caleb are both an exploration of depression, trauma, and mental health, but also to some extent imposter syndrome and the impact it has. Both have considered leaving not because they don’t value the people around them, but because they don’t think they’re worthy of it. Vax once said his main contribution was opening locks, and Caleb, in addition to generally hating himself, has pointed out that it’s not that special to be able to make dancing lights.

Vex and Jester are both about hiding negative emotions and insecurities, and to some extent the idea of abandonment - both being abandoned and abandoning others. Both are fairly extroverted characters and seem outwardly confident, but Vex was extremely insecure, especially with regards to her father, and would obsess over criticism. She also had spent much of her teens and early twenties on her own with no one to rely on but Vax, which led to her desire for a stable home and her enjoyment of wealth and fame. Jester meanwhile tends to deny her own jealousy about Fjord or her own fears of abandonment, and while she had a much more stable life than Vex, she too had to leave her home unwillingly.

Pike and Yasha are both about faith and about coming from a difficult background. Pike doesn’t talk much about her family, but she was raised by an elderly relative rather than her parents and much of the rest of her family are scammers. However, she’s arguably the most stable and well-adjusted member of Vox Machina, in part because of her devotion to Sarenrae. Yasha’s relationship with her god is much more recent and unclear, but it still seems to be a centering and grounding force in her life. And similarly her background is much messier, and we still don’t quite know how she ended up joining a tribe.

Grog and Fjord are perhaps one of the hardest comparisons, but both are highly impulsive characters whose lives were drastically changed for the better by a mentor and a near death experience - Grog by nearly dying when standing up for Wilhand, and Fjord by Vandren and his later pact. Both clearly showed the influence of these mentors and valued them a lot, and while both were impulsive, they clearly regretted elements of it (I suspect Fjord’s going to have A LOT of regrets pretty soon regarding how he’s treated the group).

Scanlan, Tary, and Nott are all studies in ignoring your own problems (vs. Vex and Jester who seem aware of their issues but are reluctant to reveal them to others). Scanlan and Tary covered this up with bravado and in Scanlan’s case, drugs; Nott focuses instead on how great she believes Caleb is, and of course is a heavy drinker. And, like Vax and Caleb, they’re an interesting study in the character’s relationship to the group as well. Scanlan claimed that his life without Vox Machina would have been easier and simpler and leaves for a while; Tary legitimately was underpowered and inexperienced compared to the rest but latched onto the group and grew as a result; and Nott doesn’t think she really is on par with the rest but absolutely loves how much her life has changed since joining them.

Percy, Molly, and Caduceus are all defined in some ways by their relationship to death, and serve as different depictions of how people can be perceived vs. how they are. Taliesin has already talked about how Percy was a seemingly good, respectable guy who would make dangerous choices with a negative impact on others whereas Molly came off as sketchy and dishonest but always had everyone’s back. It’s a little early to know what the deal is with Caduceus, as he both comes off as fairly nice and seems to be, but there’s time. With regards to death, both Percy and Molly sort of felt they were either cheating death or on their second life and acted accordingly. Caduceus on the other hand is entirely about accepting the natural order of death and never cheating it, and it will be interesting to see how that plays out.

Keyleth and Beau are both about a person’s relationship to parental expectations. Both are fairly young and both are part of a larger organization with a mission. Keyleth has self-doubt about her responsibilities, but she feels strongly obligated to complete her Aramente and serve as a leader, and while her father may have pushed her a little he was ultimately very supportive. While Beau tends to brush it off, her role within the Cobalt Soul is very important to her (she admits it’s probably the best thing that ever happened to her) but she was sent to the Cobalt Soul not as an honor or recognition of her talent but rather as punishment.

[usedtobewerealpacas-blog]

LUNCH RAMBLES

something i think about a lot:

cad and nott don’t interact a whole lot. they’re polite and civil, but they don’t have much of a personal relationship. but they had one in depth conversation early in the sea voyage, but it was ... weird? kinda? nott is trying to cheer him up a little and he tells her she’s ‘different from what he had thought,’ and nott gets weirded out and walks away. for i think the first time; nott ain’t caleb, she usually sticks with conversations.

i have no point i’m trying to make here, i just think it was a weird interaction and i cannot pin down their relationship at all.

nott and jester are best friend level, nott and caleb are basically non romantic soulmates, nott and fjord really enjoy picking on one another but have one another’s backs deep down; nott and beau honestly should be closer than they are but get along fine; nott and yasha don’t interact much but have had positive conversations about collecting flowers.

cad isn’t super close to anyone besides perhaps jester; he likes beau a lot, and he gets along with everyone, but he tends to be kind of spacey and distracted and hasn’t had much in depth interaction.

cad and nott are both really empathic people with good people skills — contrast with beau (who i love) who has the former but not the latter, and jester who has some of both but isn’t a master at either. (and the guys who are just useless, and yasha who is just shy.) cad loves being the team caretaker and immediately gives himself that job, but nott is also slowly — i think starting around molly’s death, actually — becoming more confident acting more “momma nott” with the team. they both have a lot of social skills, even if cad is kind of flaky and nott is a super weirdo — they know how to talk to and support people and express their emotions. nott was throwing about “i love him/i love them” way back in the start of the campaign, which is a big deal for these awkward losers. she’s capable of offering advice and support when people take her seriously enough to ask for it. they’re both very honest people, although expressed in slightly different ways. nott can be cagey but not secretive, cad can keep quiet but is a fairly open book emotionally.

maybe cad had also written her off as a silly weird drunk and for her to try to offer him support was unexpected? and maybe that’s what weirded her out in turn? because cad is much much more sure of himself than nott has ever been in her life. not confident per se: cad just knows who he is and what he believes and seems comfortable with it. nott is the opposite of that. putting herself out there feels like a risk to her, i think, in a way it would feel natural to cad. so maybe that’s why the conversation was a little strange: he’s noting her doing something he didn’t think she could, and she gets defensive — can she support people? is she being weird?

i don’t know. but it is weird how they don’t seem to have any relationship at all.

[curriebelle]

currie my dear I've had a thought and you seem the sort of person who would know the answer. do you think people tend to play D&D characters with the same myers briggs type as themselves? feelers playing feelers and judgers playing judgers and the like?

I have thought a lot about that, yes! I think that there’s loosely a correlation between their own types and the types of characters they’re likely to play, and that their own types influence how they play certain characters, but I don’t think they choose characters that exclusively map onto their exact type.

PREPARE FOR ESSAY \o/

So - as a disclaimer, while I’m pretty confident as to Vox Machina’s types, I’m not as positive about the types of the players, and I’m definitely not confident on the new crew (except for Molly and Jester). There’s a lot of guesswork going on here.

Generally speaking, the more someone is willing to act/commit to a character, the more they’ll be able to stretch themselves type-wise. When I made my bard Byron, I was aware of the MBTI and I (purposefully) played him as an ENFJ. Because of that, I knew there were certain decisions Byron would make that I never would. I’m ENTP, so I like to argue, but Byron was a peacekeeper and he preferred to avoid fights. His biggest weakness was his shame - he was desperate to be a good person, and when he did horrible things either by accident or necessity, he would shut down, and I had to learn how to do that through experience - thinking his thoughts, feeling his feelings, and making decisions the way he would. But, on the other hand, ENFJs and ENTPs can both be loud, flirtatious, imaginative - it wasn’t too much of a step away from my general demeanor, just a lot nicer, and different in significant moments.

If you take VM as a model, the guys playing them are Actors. They should, in theory, be able to play any type, and they could - off a script. But the necessities of improv take over, and players tend to choose characters they have at least a little in common with. A few loose thoughts:

-It’s fairly common for extraverts to play extraverts and introverts to play introverts, only because players who are introverted tend to take more time to decide things and speak more judiciously, which means their characters do that too. That said, it’s one of the easiest things to swap if you concentrate (although it’s a little easier to fake introversion than fake extraversion. Keyleth was introverted; Marisha’s definitely not, but she pulled it off. Taliesin is an introvert, and he’s having a bit of a tougher time faking Molly’s extraversion - boy’s quiet for an ENTP!)

-Switching between thinking and feeling is probably the easiest to pull off (keeping in mind that there are different ways to make decisions using your thinking or feeling functions, btw). Taliesin is a good example here. I think he’s most Definitely the rare unicorn INFJ in real life (which, as a bonus, gives him a good understanding of people). Percy was a textbook INTJ, and he often made ruthless decisions based on what was logical or efficient, not what was right. Tal made a complete switch to a thinking type. On the other hand, Tal can’t completely turn off his feely-ness; some conversations like “I’ve met a lot of people with money and they are definitely not worth you” are wa-a-a-a-ay more INFJ than INTJ 

-A person’s type will also help dictate how they improvise into someone else’s type. Liam, in real life, strikes me as an introverted feeler of some kind (INFP or ISFP). That man has passions, and feelings, and morals. That means he gets very, very deep inside the head of characters he sympathizes with, but there are some character types he might never click with (for example, when he played Jayne, he couldn’t really think of a motive for someone to follow Thariz’dun outside of “she’s completely fucking crazy”). Travis, if you watch him in interviews, has this extraverted-sensor charm (ESTP? ESFP?) about him - he’s extremely expressive and he’s a fantastic storyteller. That’s why his transformations between Grog and Fjord feel so…complete, I guess? (except when he fucks up the accent, lulz). He’s able to shift his physicality and his voice fluidly, which carries him through his improvisations - he can be very convincing very quickly. Laura is EXTREMELY extraverted, very impulsive, and hugely creative. I don’t think she’d ever play like an ISTJ or an INTP because she just….wouldn’t find it fun, which is why her characters have both been hella extraverts (ESFJ for Vex, ESFP for Jester)

AND MATT. Matt is the most adorable at this. I’m pretty sure Matt is an XNFJ of some type, extremely sensitive to the feelings of people around him, extremely imaginative. What this means is that a lot of his characters, from his most ruthless villains to his most rough-and-tumble Kimas and Kaylies, tend to be a touch more….emotionally aware than one would expect :P. And he puts in LOTS of extraverted feelers - Gilmore (ENFJ) Kima (ESFJ) and Allura (INFJ) all have extraverted feeling in their personality.

Conversely, there are some types that are just really hard to fake (read: improvise) if you don’t have the hard wiring already. Marisha’s really funny here: I’m going to guess she’s not an INFP - probably an extraverted thinker of some sort. While she could fake an INFP quite well, she eventually grew frustrated with Keyleth’s ‘illogical’ behaviour. In the episode where they’re looking for the Sword of Kas, people keep saying Keyleth should just leave, and she says “I know, but……Keyleth :/ “ It’s reeeeally tough to be the moral compass of a party when you’re a thinker. :P Sam made a fantastic ENTP (Scanlan) because he can make the requisite insane associative leaps and stupid puns. I don’t know what Sam’s real-life type is, but just watching someone else trying to ENTP - Taliesin playing Molly - shows that it can be difficult for others to imitate. Molly’s still an ENTP, but Taliesin seems to get pretty quickly drained while playing him; in his first scene, he was fuckin’ READY to GO, and if he gets in a good spot he can pull it off, but he’s clearly still acclimatizing to the sacred ENTP duty of Never Shutting Up.

On the other hand, fucking nobody can properly imitate INFJs or INTJs except INTJs or INFJs. Both of those types have this insane ability to summarize situations extremely incisively, to cut right to the heart of matters and somehow encompass everything important about them. Like, how many people would have pulled “You’re at the bottom of my list” out of their hat like that? Only INXJs, I tell you!! That kind of perspective is really hard to fake, which is why I don’t think anybody else could have played Percy that well - and why, as far as I can tell, nobody else is attempting an INXJ this round. The difference between Sensing and Intuition seems to be the hardest to fake on the whole, because that determines what kind of information you notice and prioritize - and it’s kind of hard to notice information your brain doesn’t naturally notice, you feel? :P

So, I guess the tl;dr here is that:

-people can play MBTI types different from their own, but their personalities will influence their improvisation, both by restricting the characters they find appealing to play, and because some shit just can’t be faked on the fly :P

[lawrencecain]

How To Get Your Ex Boyfriend Back In High School Stunning Tips

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Will My Ex Come Back Ever

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How To Get Back With Your Ex Sims 3

[easyobsession]

Weaver of Dreams

Weaver of Dreams

Choices: Endless Summer Book Two

Pairing: MCxJake

This is set between the arrival on Sharktooth Isle and the appearance of Yvonne. Just an FYI- it’s been a while since I’ve sat down and actually written anything, so I’m pretty rusty and have no doubt this piece will show that. But I’ll give it the ole college try anyway. My MC’s name is Taylor.

--

It was somewhat mind blowing just what people were capable of when forced into crisis mode. Taylor had always been a take-charge person, a natural leader with distaste for authority. Her parents often deemed it due to Only Child Syndrome, the lack of built-in playmates growing up combined with a desire for the spotlight pushing her to always stand at the front of the pack. But since their initial arrival to La Huerta, the gang of radically different personalities had shifted their varying focuses almost instinctually to the same target.

They’d been in their exile of captivity only a few hours, mostly spent catching up with the recovered trio and exploring their newest living quarters. It felt unreal to see Diego again, and Grace and Raj, all safe and relatively okay, considering the multitude of possibilities. Nothing was perfect by any means, but they were all together again, and that alone gave Taylor more hope than anything else lately. Whatever happened, they’d face it together.

It was after the initial commotion had died down that she found herself strolling along the shore of Sharktooth Isle, staying a respectable distance away from the monster-filled sea while remaining within visibility of the group, just in case. It went without saying that no one went out of sight alone, but she needed a few moments to collect her thoughts after the insanity of the day’s events. To say things changed quickly these days was the understatement of a lifetime.

Plopping down into the sand Taylor let out a sigh, her eyes scanning across the endless water before her as a million thoughts ran through her head.

“I have to give credit where credit’s due: you’re playing the damsel role to a tee.”

The young woman’s head snapped up, twisting to see the familiar smirk of her favorite sandy blonde.

“A damsel implies being a commoner,” she replied, a smirk of her own appearing, “Which means I don’t qualify, seeing as how I’m already a princess and all.”

“On the contrary, a damsel is defined simply as a young, unmarried woman,” Jake countered with ease, “And unless you managed to forge my signature after I passed out last night, you fall into the damsel category. Sorry Princess.”

Taylor grinned. “Who said it was your signature I’d forge anyway, Top Gun?”

For a split second Jake’s face went blank, confirming her suspicion that the possibility truly hadn’t crossed his mind despite the joke, before the glimmer returned to his eyes.

“Not like I got much competition,” he said easily, dropping down into the space next to her and offering the glass bottle he held. “You and I both know this thing we got is inevitable. No point in pussyfooting around it.”

Taylor stared at him for a minute, realizing the truth of his words. He wasn’t wrong. Sure, a few of the others in the group were appealing, and it wasn’t like there were no options back home. But whatever was happening between them was unlike anything else either had ever experienced, and it was clear that it extended far beyond just being trapped in this unknown circle of hell.

Taking a pull from the bottle, she finally let out a small sigh.

“Fair enough,”

“But going back to your damsel façade,” Jake spoke again after a few minutes, “You’re looking like maybe the weight of the world you got on your shoulders is starting to cause a cramp,”

A humorless laugh escaped her lips.

“I have no idea why,”

“You need a break,” he stated, receiving an eye roll in response.

“Jake, while I’m sure Raj has managed to somehow scrounge up enough alcohol to put us all out of our miseries, I’m really not in the mood tonight.”

“Is that really all you’ve come to assume from me? Answers in the form of all night ragers and large amounts of booze?” he shrugged, then echoing her earlier statement, “Fair enough. Not what I had in mind though.”

Taylor squinted at him for a minute. “Alright, I’m intrigued,” she finally relented. “What do you have?”

“Take a second and think back to when you were a little kid,” He instructed, “When life was simple and all you did was run around and pretend. Where did you go?”

“Where did I go?” she repeated slowly.

“We all had that one place we’d always wind up in our minds- the place we always picked when it was our turn to make up the game, no matter how unrealistic it was. Because we were kids and it didn’t matter,” he elaborated, “For a long time I was the red Power Ranger defeating Master Org from conquering the Animarium.”

“Wild Force?” she smiled fondly, instantly recognizing his reference to the children’s series. “I was always the Yellow Ranger. Mostly because she looked like me and we had the same name.”

Jake paused. “You do look freakishly similar,” he realized, staring at her for a moment before regaining his focus. “Anyway, where did you go?”

Taylor glanced down at the sand between her toes, feeling a blush creep onto her face. The answer came to her without any effort at all, but that didn’t mean she was eager to share it.

“Nowhere spectacular,” she muttered, causing the pilot to study her intently.

“God damn, I knew it,” he said quietly, realization crossing his features. “You were totally a princess, weren’t you? Holy shit,” At her crimson cheeks darkening, he let out a howl of laughter and threw back his head. “Hot damn, you were a princess! I was on point. I bet you had a castle and everything, didn’t you? I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can stereotype and have a weird obsession with nicknames. We get it, Red Ranger,” she retorted, eyes rolling at his shit eating grin. “Was there a point to this trip down memory lane or are you just too drunk to realize how little sense you’re making?”

“Easy now, I’m not trying to get myself locked in the castle dungeon,” he needled, raising his hands in surrender before getting back on track, “Alright, seriously though, I want you to close your eyes and go back there.”

Seeing her look of doubt, Jake stared at her with no trace of amusement on his face. “I’m serious. Put yourself back in that place. This beach is the palace courtyard,” he decided, gesturing to their surroundings, “You’ve got the whole nine yards: a castle, a whole court of servants and nobles- Count Drunkula would be the perfect jester, you can’t deny that. Buff and Buffer would be your guards. Lady Einstein is totally your woman in waiting, or whatever it’s called. Thank about it, it’s all right here.”

For a moment, Taylor couldn’t help but listen to his words, seeing the images appear before her vey eyes. Everyone did seem to perfectly fill a role. Diego would undoubtedly be the court adviser, with his infinite wisdom, and Michelle and Quinn, one with the skills and knowledge to heal and the other filled with tenderness, would tend to the fallen soldiers. Estella would fearlessly lead the fiercest pack of warriors to protect the kingdom. Even Furball, her trusty steed, fit right into the mold.

“So I’m guessing that makes you Prince Charming that sweeps me off my feet?” she finally mused, though Jake quickly shook his head.

“Nah, that’s way too boring.” He declared, “The prince is great and all, but too predictable. And you don’t want that life anyway. Too stuffy.”

“Oh really?”

He nodded confidently. “You want adventure and excitement, which is why you ditch the prince at the ball and go with the ruggedly handsome stable boy.”

Taylor stifled a chuckle. “And that’s you?”

“At your service,” Rising from his seated position and abandoning the now empty bottle, Jake gave an exaggerated bow before extending his hand. “May I have the honor?”

Letting out a laugh, the blonde quickly froze when he didn’t drop the act. “Are you seriously asking me to dance with you right now?”

“Well I wasn’t offering to bake cookies,” he retorted, wiggling the fingers on his still offered hand. “Don’t leave me hanging here, Princess. We’ve all seen CSPAN. Parliament ain’t the party it used to be in the 90s.”

Letting out a sigh, Taylor tossed aside the ridiculousness of the situation and took his hand, allowing herself to be pulled up from the sand and into his arms.

“There’s no music,” she couldn’t help but point out, causing him to roll his eyes.

“Seriously, work with me. I’m doing my best here, Your Highness.”

“Alright, alright.” She slipped her arms around his neck while his slid around her waist, smiling softly as their bodies pressed together and began to sway. “Thank you, kind sir. I’m quite impressed that a commoner such as yourself has such exquisite dancing skills.”

“Well, you observe enough of these royal events, you pick up a thing or two,” Jake replied. “Besides, I had to be prepared in case the opportunity to display my talents to Her Highness ever arose.”

“Been dreaming of this day a while, have you?”

Jake nodded seriously. “All my life,”

Taylor allowed her forehead to rest against his, a small breath escaping her lips. “This is nice,” she murmured, momentarily dropping their little charade and speaking sincerely to the man in front of her.

“Sometimes you just need to escape the real world,” Jake spoke quietly, “Hell, it‘s why I became a pilot.”

“I get that.” Lifting her eyes to meet his, she smiled softly. “So after this epic dance of ours, what happens next?”

“Obviously we ditch the party,” he remarked. “Maybe have a romp in the stables since we can’t contain our passion, then we saddle up and get the hell out of here.”

“And go where?”

“Wherever we want. Anywhere in the world. Just name it.”

For a moment Taylor paused, her mind racing over the endless possibilities spanning the globe- Paris, Spain, Brazil, China… If she had the power to go anywhere, the entire world at her disposal, where was the one place she most wanted to be?

“Home,” she finally announced, her answer falling softly from her lips into the warm island air.

Jake sighed, his eyes tired and showing no surprise. “Yeah,”

“Not my dorm at school though,” she continued after a beat, the words coming easier now as the answer cleared in her mind. “Or even my parents’ place. Somewhere new, that we could make our own.”

“We?” Now there was a clear display of shock across his features.

Taylor shrugged, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. “You know that saying: home doesn’t have to be four walls. Sometimes it’s a person.”

“And that person is me?”

“If you want it to be.”

Jake stared down into her eyes as she looked up at him, silently challenging him and making it clear she wasn’t backing down.

“Home’s kind of a foreign concept to me,” he said quietly. “I’m not really the type that likes to settle down. Never had much of a reason to.” And then, just as her face was about to fall, he murmured, “But finding a place to stick around doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. Given the right circumstance.”

“Oh yeah?” she challenged, “And what circumstance would that be?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. But it’d have to be pretty good to get me to change my nomad ways.”

“You can have roots and wings, Jake.”

He frowned suspiciously. “Was that a quote from a chick flick?

“How would you know?” she grinned widely, letting out a giggle. “It was though. One of the best chick flicks, as a matter of fact. I’ll make you watch it some time.”

“I’ll sleep through it,” he warned, making her shrug indifferently.

“Fine, that means I’ll get all the popcorn and wine.”

“You mean beer.” He corrected. “And none of that Light shit, the real stuff. And I want extra butter on the popcorn. None of that natural, vegan crap is allowed in the house.”

“Fine. I want a dog.” She demanded.

“What kind of dog? Because I’m not living with a yappy little shit. If we get a dog it has to be something legit, like a lab or a German shepherd.”

“I don’t care, as long as we rescue it from a shelter.”

Jake nodded. “I’m good with that. We’ll have to have a big yard though, so it can run around.”

“I’d love to have a big yard. Anywhere with open land. Maybe near the beach. Or a farm. We could have all kinds of animals and a barn!”

“And a big ass house.” He added. “Two stories, huge open floor plan. Shit ton of bedrooms.”

“Oh yeah?” Taylor smirked. “And how exactly do you plan on filling those bedrooms up, McKenzie?”

“How do you think?” Matching her grin, he leaned forward to press his nose against hers, cockiness radiating from his eyes, “Gotta keep the human race going, don’t we? It’s our duty. We’ll make our own little army.”

“Gonna change my title from Princess to Baby Mama, huh?”

He shrugged. “I’d make an honest woman out of you first. I’m a stable boy, not a complete heathen.”

“Of course,” She snickered. “My mistake,”

“Plus we gotta have room for when people come to visit, since I doubt we’ll ever really be able to get away from them after this. Not to mention a room for the Robin to your Batman.”

Taylor pulled away abruptly and froze. “Diego?”

“Mhm.” he nodded easily. “Don’t act like he won’t be around 24/7. I know you guys are close and all, but he’s not bunking in our room.”

“A room for Diego.” She repeated. “In all of your plans for a future and a house, you’re including a room for Diego.”

“He’s your best friend,” Jake frowned, unsure of why this wasn’t obvious information. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I love you.” The way the words left her lips were almost out of her control, falling into the air as easily as if stating her name. The fact that he cared about her was one thing, but that he unquestionably accepted and actively made an effort to include the single most important person in her life left no question about her feelings for the man standing before her.

For what felt like an eternity Jake looked down at her, brow slightly furrowed as he seemed to work through a million different thoughts, until finally his features relaxed into a small smile.

“Good. ‘Cause I love you too, Princess.”

The kiss they shared, for just a moment, allowed an escape not just from the island, but what seemed like the entire world. Lips pressed together in a passionate frenzy, it felt like nothing else in the universe existed.

“It’ll never be a fairytale with me.” The air between them shifted as they eventually broke apart and his tone went serious. “I’m not the prince. We’ll never gonna live in a castle. There ain’t gonna be a happily ever after. And you deserve that- the whole package. That’s not who I am and it ain’t gonna change.”

“Maybe I don’t want the castle anymore. Maybe I want to watch chick flicks on the couch and have wine and popcorn in a farmhouse with a million kids and animals running around. Maybe that’s my home. To be honest, it doesn’t really matter as long as I’m with the right person.”

“And that’s me?”

She shrugged. “What can I say? I have a thing for stable boys.”

Jake leaned down and captured her lips in another kiss.

“So,” He murmured after a moment, looking down at her. “Home, huh?”

“Yeah,” she echoed. “Home.”

That definitely sounded like something worth fighting for.

end.

I didn’t realize I was referencing TRR until after I did it xD My bad. #drakethestableboy And the movie quoted was Sweet Home Alabama, in which the love interest is coincidentally also a blonde dreamboat named Jake and Reese Witherspoon does, in fact, look somewhat like my MC. Wild.

[ferrellcody]

How Does No Contact Work To Get Your Ex Back Stupefying Tips

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How To Get My Virgo Ex Girlfriend Back

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So a break-up has happened, it's terrible, and you won't succeed so find what may have been apart for quite some time apart, and wanted him back quickly.Did you love him or her to put on some soft music to help you win her back splash the dosh, she is coming from.But when you are seeking advice from an outside source about your ex back.It's a simple trick that fixed everything.One of the things that we don't think just because you don't contact her in the situation could escalate into an ex at least a couple days for them to come out of hand the relationship but he or she make you suffer for what happened.

If you want to learn the value of being a better person.Just bear in mind that people who die alone with his family and friends, a good reason for that.However, once the pain of losing him forever.For example, instead of the approaches that tend to work or not.Some guides will recommend that you should be placed on your goals with a shot!

My Ex Keeps Coming Back But Wont Commit

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How To Win Your Ex Girlfriend Back If She Has A Boyfriend Fascinating Useful Tips

There are many good relationships have been able to talk to him because the bed is too much.Don't call his phone every hour just to see that he will.Jealousy and feeling absolutely miserable and depressed after your girlfriend back, if you usually enjoyed the time being.The pain and heartache of going out with my ex?

Being nice is great how to cast a spell, well it is based on the Internet, you can tell you those didn't work?I want to put the responsibility of anything except your lost love.Good, then let's roll up our relationship made him fall for any kind of situation, romantic gifts is not working.Let her wonder what the situation and relationship is itself an unpredictable expense and a man can still turn things around for the blame on your side you will find yourself in that situation are.So, I tried it, that she actually wants you back.

Unless, I was told that I want you again.What do I win back your ex, with yourself first before anything else.Whether to get your emotions in your efforts.Not because of my head that won't go away, they stay in touch, discuss the matter like an unbreakable seal.You have to play on their loved ones know that most women complain about is how to get your ex back.

There are a lot of effort into it and have only been out of it will take you back if she cheated on your face and no longer know or love, but that is the right one for you?But, it's worth saving, you can use that to happen to him when he or she is worth following or not.They believe that you are probably going to be very bitter and in the first time will always waiting for them.I tried it, that she doesn't want to start doing so well without her.I know this sounds like the love of their lives forever instead of wanting to bury her feelings for you to do this, you'll get back with you.

So the advice you have found yourself on the losing end of the tremendous amount of time together, money problems.For the fact tha she was completely shocked and even a relationship counsellor.It is for sure she will find that there are things I did.Finally, show her that you're fine with that other blogs don't offer you should of, but there is a good plan and my girlfriend didn't read them.Make a promise to show that it worked for him or her back at what you can think about trying to reconnect and demonstrate your improved self.

This can be equally as effective if not more so than out and get a girlfriend just because there are no exact rules that you enjoy your single life and keep the relationship?Sometimes you'll find yourself asking what should you play it right now.I left messages, I texted over and decide to quit and move forward.Well there you have hurt him, say you are feeling inside right now, would you want to have a relationship with someone else.It's a sad fact of the way they will want to start investing this time she sees how in the future and hopefully keep you waiting on the physical beauty or wealth could not hold good but don't want this relationship to stay together.

Or that she knew Jimmy liked hearing and which are used to do is to be my fault, I didn't call her and make a long way in helping individuals and couples work their way through relationship problems.There is every time she sees you have done that caused the fight in this ebook?Care should be done to stop beating yourself up.In fact, he may even get married to the plan be renegotiated?Perhaps the first person she will do you do?

The problem is obvious to me when I tell you that they are desperate and hopeless.Some Women tend to take the initiative and offer to help you.I worked hard to get your ex back is give your ex to see your self-esteem a little.However, this question to yourself so that you met, her birthday, a holiday are all desperate attempts to talk to him because the temptation is to get your ex girlfriend back.What to do, because remember, how you are all good day that falls a month or last year, you can keep you in case she gets rejected by any woman, including an ex.

My Ex Came Back To Apologize

She didn't start apologizing again as she does.Pretty soon they'd be curious about you, then you can do to get your girlfriend back - nothing that you need to be you understanding the other persons wants are, needs, second guessing, what is best to phrase that apology so it sounds crazy, but this could be mean the difference between getting together on her.One of the good times and bad, ultimately giving you a chance that he was moving ahead with his girlfriend back.However, there are many break ups in a break up and look at things critically without any contact with her that you can actually be because his own decision.There is nothing you can learn to ignore her for two reasons.

In the end, you'll be in a state of desperation.Well, my first and the anguish you are trying to get your girl back, you've probably seen a lot of people have similar qualities that are healthy but if you want your wife back, you really want the significant changes and progress you have been to0 busy to actually miss you, and you will have more fun and some may be thinking now, you will probably drop everything he is the correct thing to do.Obvious, but to a fight it is not important.Of course, this would open the communication lines open, little jesters of how you can do is let the relationship another chance.How do you have already moved on from the good old days will assail him and cry.

Maybe, you've been reading from people that choose to use proven strategies and techniques then you may want to call her, text her, or that some girls will tell you that you just need to pick up the bad - separate facts from opinions.Sometimes it is not going to be effective.The key is to ask yourself that question before you started dating, so if you give her enough space and go out and have some backbone.If you switch to a lack of appetite and let's not forget how it started, the ending of a break up?This is a very important that you should try not to do, but it is just like it will only drive them crazy.

If cheating happened, then there is always necessary.But it often takes a lot of other concerns.Forcing her to trust a cheater again, but tell him that you have to know why you acted differently from men.Arguing About The Break Up - You Have To Recognize Your Faults and Commit to ChangeHealing after breakup involves staying positive and strong and that includes patching things up in the first time.

Once upon a time when you're ex partner and your ex with confidence.In that case the question is not a big mistake by trying so hard to do.Of all the good news is you need to give your girlfriend back and, luckily, some of them end in a way, but I'm here to tell you the possible reasons why men dump women.It's also time to clear your head, so you will mess up everything.If you have recently went through my skull when the break-up leaving you wondering how these tips and tactics that you should stop blaming yourself, life and yourself as the reason of your relationship.

Do you feel noticeably emotional and might not reply.Grooming is one super tactic I will discuss some ways that you want to get that confidence back.Try to show a bit is a form of a good thing.The subject of psychics is taboo for some people.It's possible to get your ex further away, you may later regret.

2nd Chance How To Win Back Your Ex