#he’s on the aguefort cheer team

[misterpseudonym]

“You see—uh, you see this small, sort of stalky looking goblin, uhh, alchemist warlock kid who’s sporting a pair of electric green tinted goggles propped over his forehead.

He’s got this curly grown-out braided mohawk that hangs in front of his eyes and ends in a little mullet—dressed kind of like, mangy Y2K, you know, little t-shirt that reads sweet heart in old curvy hippie font, insanely low-cut faded jeans, his midriff just like full [CHUCKLES]—fully on display. There’s a belt of tools and vials with shimmering, neon swirling liquid strapped really low around his hips and you see it’s kind of like [LAUGHS], studded.

Big round potions hang off one side and you notice on the other there’s a little holster for a pocket-sized, what looks like a grimoire, and even just peeking you can see it’s pink and absolutely bedazzled with rhinestones. Like it says Book of Shadows in silvery white puffy glitter glue.

You see [LAUGHS]—he’s got the like, one fang poking out from under the lip, and his eyes look almost—one is honey yellow and the other is pale cyan, and his pupils almost look like they’re permanently slitted paper-thin. As you approach his ears kind of twitch sensing your presence and you see they end in these small, dark green tufts, sort of like a bobcat’s. He looks up from his crystal and his like, manicured jet-black claws just keep skittering across the screen. He’s got a lollipop stick in his mouth but it’s like, budging like there’s no more lollipop and he’s just been chewing on it for wayyy too long.”

[freswoe]

fuck it im gonna talk more about the Birdcatchers aka my best kids. specifically my man zeke ambercrown because like. i imagine, before he joined aguefort, that his parents had to talk to him about all of the negatives of being a satyr, the unconscious biases - that people might assume because he's a satyr that he's stupid, or that he's always up for partying, or that he'll never say no (to anything) so why even bother asking? and that some people - helio's followers, his mom mutters and his dad pretends not to hear - might dislike him because of the drinking, the dancing, the fighting that satyrs are known for goes against what they've been taught and that makes them scared, and that fear makes them dangerous. and that zeke listens to them but goes no, this is elmville, im friends with a lot of people here and they aren't like that to me! you're just overreacting!

and then he shows up for school. tries out for the owlbears and makes the team for his speed, starts feeling more confident. starts working up the courage to maybe invite the other birdcatchers to watch a game of his. and then coach daybreak starts talking about inviting some of the best kids back to his house, to talk strategy, that he's always open to chat with. and zeke thinks that isn't right, that teachers shouldn't have students at their homes, right? but the other, older owlbears members seem to think it's okay, so he should too, right? and then zeke sees the coach look at him and sees his lip curl and say with false cheer that 'ambercrown here can even come along, make it a real party, but no stealing any drinks, ezekiel! don't want to corrupt my good boys here!' he wags his finger playfully and zeke goes cold. he sees the look in his eyes.

over the next few practice sessions he slips up, uses what he's been taught to make his movements look sloppy, uncoordinated. one of the other kids - a quiet half-orc, one of those kids who made the principal explode or something - tries to ask him what's up once but zeke shrugs him off, tells him to watch himself. he tries to sound sincere, but he knows it comes off as aggressive. he leaves before he's forced to and quietly joins track and changes the subject when his parents ask how bloodrush is going.

later, at the end of the year, when zeke and the birdcatchers return from their final battle and find the gym destroyed, he keeps his face carefully neutral when he's told that coach daybreak was killed.

in sophomore year, he tries out for the owlbears again. he makes the team.

[patron-saints]

hello figayda nation i have a request and a thought: ayda is canonically 6’6” and fig is canonically tiny enough to be the flyer when she did cheer (which to me is like. 5’3” at most ((but i grant she could have grown a little by sophomore year or that she wears heeled stompy boots))) - is there anyone with visual art ability who can highlight their height difference for me because i am dying to see art where they’re like. tippy toes kissing or some other thing that makes them look absolutely silly together (and adorable)

[chockfullofsecrets]

D20 Fantasy High: Making Room

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

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

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

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

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

Wordcount: 2.1k

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fabian barely blinks. “Yes.”

“YES,” says Fig, even louder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. Oh, no.

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

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

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

[etanunu]

if any of the bad kids were to be elected student council president, who do you think would be and why?

Oh man, this is one of those questions you didn’t know you were hoping/waiting for until you see it. Hope you don’t mind a long answer and thank you so much for the headcanon ask! 💕

From least likely to most:

Riz. Look I love Riz, he’s the best. But we all remember what happened the last time he tried to take on a leadership role, the rest of the Bad Kids immediately dunked on him so hard they collectively decided they were a democracy.

Fabian. Could he get the nomination? Probably. Would he win? Absolutely not. No matter how “cool” Fabian pretends or says he is we all know he’s a disaster when it comes to social interactions. Season 1 is proof of that but Boys Night reminded us that none of the boys are capable of getting any cool points outside of adventuring.

Kristen. I see this going one of two ways. 1) Kristen gets nominated and is super enthusiastic but loses because she starts questioning things so much she talks everyone including herself out of it. 2) Kristen rocks the vote, wins by a landslide, but steps down after realizing she’d much rather prioritize her relationships or the new church of Cassandra. But she goes down in a blaze of glory.

Fig. There’s no doubt in my mind that if Fig wanted to win she would win but on a platform based entirely around disrupting all school policies and turning the whole system upside down. Anarchy, baby! Hell even Aguefort is backing her election, seen gleefully clapping and cheering on the sidelines as Fig makes the most hardcore speeches ever and burns a pentagram into the cafeteria tables, floor, and walls when she goes full archdevil persuasion on Aguefort Academy. Everything goes well for her until she takes it just a bit too far, even for her, and Aguefort calls the whole thing.

Adaine. She could, would, and might become class president at some point. It feels very in character especially now that Adaine has overcome a lot of her anxieties. However, it would be a background thing that hardly comes up just like the AV Club.

Gorgug. Listen, listen, I know I said that Boys Night was proof none of the boys have cool points and yes Gorgug is still the kid who stole backpacks but, BUT he has Fig and the rest of the Bad Kids. If Gorgug was nominated or, even better, if he decided to run don’t tell me his friends wouldn’t do everything to help him win. Fig would be his campaign manager. Riz would investigate public opinion and dig up dirt on Gorgug’s opponents (under contract with Fig). Kristen would campaign so hard, and she and Fig would try to coach Gorgug like they did when he first asked out Zelda. Fabian would hype Gorgug up like crazy and have it as a given that the entire Bloodrush Team is voting for his boy. He might get a little aggressive with people who say they’re voting for someone else. Adaine would do everything she could to help while being calm and respectful to what Gorgug wants and is saying. She’s the one usually reigning Fig’s overzealous antics in. My point is if there’s even a tiny chance Gorgug could become class president he would do it. After all, he’s the greatest wizard of this age.

Thank you again for this headcanon ask it was a blast to answer!

[behercowboy]

fig faeth would've LOVED but i'm a cheerleader...

the first time she watches it, she is with the bad kids.

movie nights at mordred manor are every weekend and it's kristen's turn to choose when she pulls up this campy free with ads film on fantasy youtube. all any of them can really glean from the title is that it's obviously centered around the life of this bubbly girl on the cheer team. it looks dumb and definitely like the sort of movie only kristen would have heard of, but they indulge her interest in slightly obscure cult classics for tonight because it also seems feel good and that is the ideal vibe.

fig's not thinking about it too hard when she first sees the poster in the search results, with a girl that is wearing this dress in the same former favorite color pink she is relearning not to hate and holding a pair of pompoms the shade of aguefort red. it's not until the movie actually starts and fig is faced with girls getting thrown in the air and cheers getting chanted that she remembers:

she was a cheerleader once.

but then the movie continues. this girl abruptly gets sent to a conversion camp for possibly being a lesbian based on shit such as fantasy melissa etheridge, something fig unfortunately gets, thinking of her own posters. she meets another girl. they don't hit it off at the start, which surprises no one, considering they're total opposites. meanwhile, the rest of the characters filter in.

adaine wonders when hilary shows up whether she is as uptight. tracker frowns when jan has the hair under her nose ripped away. ragh nods sagely when dolph says his root is locker room showers. gorgug grimaces when clayton gets thrown into the tight space of a shed that is so alike to the thistlespring tree. riz tries when joel changes course after the confession of a certain crush but just does not get it. fabian cackles when andre speaks up until he witnesses him dancing with a feather boa as if it were a high thread count sheet. even zane takes notes when sinead does her eyeliner.

the girls fall in love. the girls get out of there.

as the bad kids all get into a heated argument over whether they will last, the end credits rolling and the tune of together forever in love floating through the halls of the house, kristen backing the notion that the very title of the song supports, tracker heading the idea that they take a break, one person is not paying them any attention.

the second time she watches it, she is on her own.

fig tries it even later at night this time, in the dark of her room, untouched pompoms in her closet behind black clothes on hangers, rock band posters plastered over pink walls.

with fig, it's funny.

she was megan once. she is graham now.

[annablosssom]

dream a little dream

He's alone.

He'd lost sight of Gorgug and Fabian, and now he's alone.

((a look into what Ragh's experience in the Forest of the Nightmare King might've been))

(((read on AO3)))

"Fabian!" He yells, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Gorgug!"

He waits, listens, but when no reply comes save for the faint rustling of leaves, he calls out again.

He wanders on for a few minutes more, hackles rising the longer he stays in the forest. He starts calling out for the rest of the Bad Kids.

“Adaine! Fig! The Ball!”

Five minutes more, and his voice has turned hoarse with shouting, but he continues nonetheless.

“Sandra Lynn! Tracker! Kristen!”

Five minutes more, and doubt starts to creep into his mind. Doubt that they’ve forgotten him. Doubt that they’ve left him. He isn’t sure which one is worse.

"Ayda! Fabian! Gorgu--"

"Ragh, dude," a familiar voice drones somewhere behind him, “chill out for a sec, man. You’ve been shouting for a while.”

He draws his glaive and turns in one smooth motion, baring his teeth, muscles tense. “Whoever you are, you better be prepared to have your ass kicked!”

“Hey, hey, I said chill, dude. It’s just me.”

From out of the foliage, Dayne Blayde steps out, hands up. He walks towards Ragh, wearing his letterman jacket. He grins in that crooked way Ragh found attractive a lifetime ago, before Jawbone.

Before the Bad Kids.

Before the black eye.

“Stay back,” he warns, brandishing his glaive, “I beat you during prom. I beat you in hell. And I’m gonna beat you here in this forest if you try anything.”

“Ragh, my man,” Dayne scoffs, tilting his head as he leans back against a tree, “ you  didn’t beat me. The  Bad Kids  beat me. There’s a difference.”

Ragh growls, that same doubt coming back twofold, “Shut up!”

“Dude, you’re only mad because you know I’m right. I mean, look at you,” he nods at him. “Sandra Lynn’s a cool ranger, Cathilda’s a badass maid, Tracker’s magic keeps everyone safe at night-- I mean, they even talk to  Gilear more than they talk to you. So, let's face it," he shrugs, "you’re worthless to them, dude.”

His knuckles whiten around his weapon. “If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m gonna kill you!”

"Dayne laughs, saying, “You’re not a Bad Kid, Ragh. You never were.”

Ragh charges at him, blood pumping as he falls into a rage.

The glaive sinks into nothing tree bark as Dayne flickers out of sight.

“Shouldn’t have done that, man,” he says, reappearing behind him with raised fists.

Raghs growls, yanking on his glaive but then the tendrils of vines wrap around the weapon from where it remains embedded in the tree. Danger sense kicks in, and he lets go just in time to jump back from the thorny vines that whip towards him.

He turns, weaponless, and takes a direct hit to his sternum as Dayne lunges forward and socks his chest. He feels something break. Breath escapes his lungs, and he falls to his knees.

He tries to take a breath, and again, but his throat closes up each time. He reaches up, clawing at his neck.

Dayne kicks him in the ribs, the force sending him to the floor, lying on his side, struggling to breath. Another kick, in his stomach. And another. And another. Another.

The lack of oxygen and pain makes him lightheaded, but he hears Dayne’s voice insulting him crystal clear despite it. Pure vitriol fills his ears, makes shame burn low in his gut. His ears ring. He tastes blood in his mouth.

A hand grabs the front of his jacket, forcefully putting him face to face with Dayne. Still grinning that crooked grin. His mind starts shutting down from the lack of air.

“This is what you get, you fucking fa--”

Ragh flinches at the slur, black spots appearing in his vision.

Dayne raises his fist one last time, and punches him in the face.

 --

 Ragh Barkrock walks home with a bruise around his right eye.

It throbs dully with each step. It distracts him enough that he trips over a tree root jutting out of the sidewalk. He blinks, brow furrowed, because there are no trees in his neighborhood.

His eye throbs, and he looks back and sees a crack on the sidewalk.

Ah,  he thinks. That makes more sense.

So he continues walking down the familiar streets of Elmville leading to the only home he's ever had. He passes by the old park his mother used to bring him to when he was younger, the old swing set rusted, the ground covered with foliage. Forest foliage.

His eye throbs.

He continues walking. He doesn’t know how he got back to Elmville. He doesn’t know what happened in Sylvaire. The details become fuzzy right after Dayne punches him into unconsciousness and right before he started walking. But he does know he has to go home to his mother.

So he continues walking.

 And walking.

 And walking.

 And walking.

 And then he stops.

A familiar burgundy door. His childhood home. Somehow, the paint seems fresh.

He swipes his hand across it and it comes back smeared with red.

He opens the door.

Inside, he hears his mother in the kitchen. He goes there.

"Mom?" he calls out as he steps through the open archway.

Lydia Barkrock is seated in her wheelchair, facing the lowered stove and away from him, humming a little tune to herself.

"Mom," he approaches, but then his black eye flares with a sudden pain, and he gasps, knees hitting the floor as he clutches his eye.

The humming stops.

"What's that on your face, Ragh?" she asks without turning to face him.

He blinks through the searing pain, "Mom, wh--" the pain intensifies, sending him prone on the floor. It feels like a dagger constantly stabbing into his right eye, twisting in the socket as it exits and enters. “It… it hurts, mom--”

"Dayne Blayde gave it to you?" She says, cutting him off, "Why? What for?"

He tries to stand, to ask for help, but he can only scream in agony.

"Oh, you stupid worthless boy," there's mocking affection in her voice, and through the haze of pain, he sees the wheelchair turn. "Did you really think he would love you back?"

"M-mom, please--"

"Did you really think  anyone  would love you back?"

The smell of burning wood and smoke reaches him. Panic makes his guts twist.

The house burns, flames licking at the walls in his periphery. Have to get her out, have to save her--

"Mom, w-we have to go!" He manages to push himself up on his elbows.

"Look me in the face, son."

He urges his body to move despite the pain lancing through his eye, managing to kneel, hands clutching the sides of the wheelchair to keep himself upright.

"Look at me."

He doesn't look, a deep sense of fear telling him not to look. The smell grows stronger, and he feels heat.  Have to get mom out, keep her safe, away from the flames--

"Ragh," her voice softens, a tone of voice he rarely heard from her. "Look at me."

Slowly, he looks.

The vision of his mother's burnt face forever imprints itself in his mind.

"You killed me, Ragh," she whispers, tongue falling to ash as she speaks, her piercing eyes pinning him in place. The smell of cooked meat and singed hair fills his nose as he lets out choked sobs.

"No.  No ." Tears build up in his eyes as he tries to remember, "Principal Aguefort said--"

"He lied," she leans in, voice still whisper-soft. "You told your friends something you shouldn't have, and you killed me."

"I didn't," he whimpers, knuckles white from clutching the wheelchair. He tries to move, to twist his head away from her, but he  can’t . "I didn't kill--"

"You  killed  me!" She screams, the gem in her scorched chest pulsing with light. "You little snitch! You killed me, you killed me you killed me killed me killed me killed me--"

Charcoal hands wrap around his throat, and the paralysis loses its grip on Ragh. Instincts kick in, and he shoves her off him and into the flame.

His mother’s corpse falls to the ground, wheelchair clattering.

Ragh turns, and runs, the glow of his burning home elongating his shadow.

 --

 He runs.

He doesn’t know for how long, but he continues to run.

Exhaustion seeps into his bones, but the memory of his mother’s burnt corpse spurs him on.

So he keeps running.

Eventually, the smell of smoke fades, and he finds himself back approaching Aguefort Academy. He slows to a stop by the gates, legs shaking, feet aching.

He closes his eyes as he leans on his knees, panting with exertion.

A whistle blows, and his eyes snap open.

He’s sitting on a sideline bench. A dozen players stand in the bloodrush field, the stands filled to capacity by a boisterous audience, flood lights turned on as the evening game commences. He sees the Aguefort team playing against an unfamiliar opponent, their team colors unfamiliar to him. He hears a clapping sound beside him, and he turns to see a huge demonic entity wearing a tight white shirt and a tiny blue cap, holding a brown clipboard.

Gorthalax cups a hand around his mouth and yells, “Line, use your hips when you push!”

He turns to the field, He spots Gorgug in the line, pushing against a player much larger than him. The opponent pushes him down, a loud snapping of bones audible across the field as he lands on his arm. The enemy runner rushes past Gorgug and scores. A chorus of gasps and boos.

Ragh watches as Gorgug slowly gets up, fingers digging into the bench, expectantly darting his eyes towards the medical team on standby, but none of them go out into the field.

Horror fills him as he sees Gorgug stand and get into position, his arm twisted. The referee blows their whistle, starting the next play. The audience cheers.

“Coach! He’s hurt!” Ragh shouts, on his feet as soon as he realizes what’s happening, “You gotta get ‘im out of there!”

“‘Fraid I can’t do that, bud,” Gorthalax says, nonchalantly writing down something on his clipboard, before raising a hand to adjust his cap. “He’s our only shot at winning the line.”

“His arm’s fucking broken!” He yells, desperate, before pulling on Gorthalax’s sleeve. “Put me in! I’ll play! I’ll win the line, just get him out!”

He realizes his mistake the moment the coach turns to fully face him for the first time. Not Gorthalax, but a demonic Coach Daybreak. He snarls at Ragh, pushing him down on the ground.

“You’re  gonna win the line?” he snarls, pointing a thick, meaty finger at him. “You can’t even win against a bunch of  fucking freshmen! You’re worthless, Ragh!”

Another wave of cheers erupts from the crowd, and Ragh glances just in time to see Fabian get tackled to the ground. His attacker stands, leaving Fabian lying limp on the ground. Another blow of the referee’s whistle.

Ragh tries to run towards the field, but Daybreak grabs his arm and pulls him back. 

“You can’t do anything, boy,” he growls, “so just sit tight and watch them die.”

Gorgug falls once more with another violent push from the enemy line. He lands next to Fabian, unconscious. Another round of cheers. Another whistle.

Filled to the brim with desperation, Ragh turns and punches Daybreak across the face, shocking him enough to make him lose his grip. A glint of metal catches his eye, and he sees his glaive lying against the bench.

He grabs it and charges into the field and stands in front of his collapsed friends, teeth bared. He feels strength come back to his arms as he goes into an aggressive stance. Opponents start rushing at him, and he tries his best to hold them back. The roar of the audience doubles out here in the field, cheers and taunts and jeers and applause overwhelming his senses.

He gets into the rhythm of the fight-- dodging the hits he can and withstanding those he can’t with rage. He slashes at the approaching attackers, uses his weapon’s reach to keep them at bay.

His entire being feels clear in a way it hasn’t been in a long time. Battle ready and out to kill. Every single hit that lands causes the audience to scream with delight, blood spilling into the grass. The sound exhilarates him.

Keen eyes spy a slight figure clad in that unknown team’s colors crouched next to the unconscious Gorgug, and he roars. He swings his glaive high to come down on them, but they dodge out of the way as it does.

The crowd boos, insults falling from their lips with Dayne and Daybreak’s voices overlapping with theirs.

So he tries again, putting even more force behind the second blow, only to be rebuffed by a spectral shield.

Even more jeering from the audience, slurs and mocking laughter. He thinks he hears his mother screaming.

He moves to attack once more, but then another figure grapples him from behind, forcing him into a headlock.

A voice comes through, shouting above the crowd.

“Ragh, Ragh! This is not you!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpses brown skin and dark hair.

“It’s  not you! ”

He looks up, and the moon gleams, before flooding the sky with its light. The world turns white around him, and the bloodrush field vanishes. A cool and gentle magic floods into his mind, dispelling the possession and the fear.

His knees immediately go weak and he collapses, the weight of exhaustion coming back all at once. He collapses to his hands and knees, gasping and sobbing.

When his sight comes back, he sees Aelwyn kneeling on the forest floor, crouched protectively over Adaine’s body. His guts twist at the hole in her chest, her denim jacket tacky with gore. Bile rises in his throat.

“Hey,” Tracker says, putting a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes are bloodshot but determined, mouth set. “Head in the game.”

He takes another gasping breath, and nods.

He looks up.

He sees Kalina, claws out and razor-sharp. He sees Adaine’s mother, floating as she readies another spell. He sees the real Gorthalax, grappling with the Nightmare King.

He sees his friends, bloody and bruised but not backing down.

Ragh stands, glaive in hand, muscles protesting and body shaking with the effort, but he stands nonetheless.

This nightmare's not over yet.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Natural One (Fabian Seacaster/Riz Gukgak, 5.8k)

5 times Fabian rolled a natural one, and one time Riz rolled a nat 20

Fabian and Riz stand with their backs against each other - well, with Riz’s head pillowed by his lower back - surrounded by tiny gnomes baring their tools menacingly. Hammers and saws meant for building were slowly tearing them and their friends apart. One lucky swipe slashed his arm and earlier one of their attackers bashed Riz’s knee in. For tiny creatures they have a ginormous ruthlessness to them.

If they survive this, Fabian will bind Fig’s hands together with enchanted chains. So she can never again anger a room full of sleep-deprived mechanics by pressing the only button that would destroy their hard work.

“Why would you even make a button for that!” Fig screamed, swinging her guitar wildly, “It’s like hanging a piano with fraying rope. One way or another it was getting smashed!”

“Less pointing the finger and more apologizing !” Adaine said, tossing up a shield to block the flurry of screws pelting her.

Now while their friends handle the main engineer, Riz and Fabian stay with the stragglers.

“I never thought it would end like this,” Riz mutters, fingers twitching against his trigger, “After so many close calls… taken down by a bunch of gnomes hopped up on coffee and Adderall.”

“Don’t say that Riz,” Fabian says. He glances at the smaller boy, attempting a reassuring smile. “We’re adventurers. We have the final say on when we perish… and that day is certainly not today.”

Riz meets his stare, mirroring his expression. “Thanks, Fabian.” The words drift towards Fabian’s heart and wraps around it, squeezing. The uptick of his mouth feels more genuine. While he has confidence in his premier abilities and skills, Riz’s support is a special kind of blessing. A gift far greater than any Kristen’s terminally positive deity could give. His faith in Fabian is unshakeable, even when some of his actions and misadventures were questionable.

Why he never realized he loved the eager goblin sooner Fabian blames on tunnel vision. Too focused on aiming for precise points on the dartboard that he completely missed the bull’s-eye.

Once he realized where he should be firing, though, his aim faltered.

Fabian faced the encroaching gnomes, ready to fight. He crouches and leaps, twisting over the pack blocking him. Picturing how amazing he must look - twirling in the air, fluorescents flashing behind and casting him in a vengeful shadow, preparing to swing, slash, and drop his enemies.

Except he lands wrong. Foot sliding, Fabian falls to the floor. His sword flies elsewhere, wrung from his hands. The last thing he hears before succumbing to swirling darkness was Riz calling his name.

It doesn’t make him feel as warm as it did seconds earlier.

He comes to surrounded by the other Bad Kids. “It’s all smoothed over,” Gorgug says, “I managed to convince the boss that Fig blowing up their machine was a good thing.”

“Helped that he thought you were his son,” Fig chuckles, elbowing him in the ribs, “Seriously, who knew so many gnomes adopted orcish orphans? Apparently it’s really big in the gnomish community.”

Gorgug whines, “But he’s not my dad!”

“Honestly?” Kristen says, leaning on her staff, “It was a little touch and go there.”

Adaine nods, “I saw you mumbling to yourself. ‘No, it can’t be… three dads is too many’.”

“I got there in the end, that’s all that matters!”

Fabian sits up, waving his hands and cutting into their argument. “Wait a minute! It was that easy? But what about the other gnomes we were fighting?”

“They stopped pretty quickly after their boss offered them paid time off,” Riz tells him, “After you went down -”

“Which I took pictures of,” Fig adds, “very funny.”

“After you went down,” Riz repeats, “the gnomes closed in and were about to end me. But when the gang rushed in with the PTO forms they rushed home.”

“I can’t believe I got knocked out almost as the fight was over,” Fabian groans, “What did I even slip on?”

“Some loose nuts and bolts.”

Fabian slams his head into his knees, hoping the concussive blow could force him unconscious once more. “Please,” he says into his legs, “No one speak of this.”

“Too late,” Fig says, “I already texted it to the entire school.”

All he wanted was to impress Riz. He surely wouldn’t find a laughingstock that worthy of his affections.

The Hangman sped in as the group said their goodbyes, promises to meet up tomorrow and discuss their findings. Fabian couldn’t leave fast enough.

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

Coach Gorthalax stressed how important this game was for the Owl Bears. Winning this meant that they would advance to regional championships, playing bloodrush against some of the top schools across the lands. And with their final competition being the boys from Hudol, there wasn’t any doubt they’d move forward.

“Even if their players are pale, nerdy weaklings, with so little muscle development they can barely hold up their books,” Gorthalax said during the huddle, “I don’t want you slacking. Being lazy now is just the thing that’ll give them an edge over us. If we all focus we’ll win and have a good time!”

“Yeah!” Ragh screamed, pounding his helmet against his chest, “Let’s go and mutilate the other team! Woo!”

“See, now that’s some great enthusiasm,” Gorthalax wags his clipboard at the orcish player, “I want to see that from all of you. Now let’s hear some hoot growls. Hoot Growl! Hoot Growl!”

“Hoot Growl! Hoot Growl! Hoot Growl!”

A stampede of cleats and warcries filled the pitch as Fabian and the other Owlbears stormed the field, startling the opposing team as they sipped at their tea. Watching a biscuit drop and crumble onto the grass made Fabian grin, an omen for how the game would play out.

Hudol didn’t stand a chance. The Owlbears played to their strengths. Fabian and Ragh never let them have the ball, and on the off chance they did Gorgug tackled them once they stepped foot near the goal. Height and long limbs had their advantage when guarding. Riz helped by confusing them, rolling up into a little ball and jumping into their arms. Sometimes a Hudol boy ran towards Gorgug only to find Riz in his arms smiling. Distracted, they never saw Gorgug until it was too late. They high-fived over the prone figure below them.

Halfway into the third quarter, though, Riz sat on the sidelines. Helmet off and chatting with Fig, their assistant coach and manager. He didn’t think a student could hold such a position, but one day during practice she came in with a whistle and two hats - ‘Ass Coach’ stitched onto one and ‘Womanager’ on the other.

“Is this allowed?” Gorgug asked, “What did Principal Aguefort say about this?”

“He liked my moxy and wanted to know if  I could be coach as well,” Fig said, smirking, “I told him thanks but assistant coach and manager were already enough. Then he did a bump of cocaine, offered me some, and hopped out of his office window.”

Riz arched a brow. “You didn’t take it did you?”

“What are you, a cop?” she huffed, rubbing her nose.

They were most likely discussing plays and maneuvers. Fig surprised him with her skills in both roles she took on. During practices she pushed them harder and further than even his mother during sword practice. Outside the field Fig kept their successes circulating in the school paper and once, for an overnight away game. booked them the nicest motel.

“I didn’t think the school had the budget for something this fancy,” Fabian said while waiting in one lobby with its own water feature. Gorthalax spoke with the lady behind the front desk while the others ran to their rooms.

“Oh it doesn’t,” Fig said, “That’s why I used Gilear’s credit card. Not like he’s spending money on anything other than yogurt.”

Caught up in the memory he doesn’t see the leg of  Hudol player until he’s tripping on it. The ball in his hands goes flying.

Luckily an Owlbear snatches it and powers through over to the Hudol goal. Fabian glares, shoving the boy who tripped him as he stood.

Ragh jogs over to him and slaps his shoulder. “Head in the game, Seacaster. Hoot Growl!”

“Yes, yes - Hoot Growl!” The teams move to set up for the next match after the Owlbears scored their latest goal. Fabian waits in the middle for the referee's whistle. Glancing over to the bench he sees Riz staring at him intently. Under such intense scrutiny forces a blush to settle on Fabian’s cheeks. Trying to will it away only causes him to miss the whistle and see Hudol steal their ball.

“Get it!” Gorthalax screams, “Get the ball!”

Fabian spins and chases the player, bulleting over. Leaping forward Fabian tackles the other boy and rolls with him until he’s crushed underfoot. Grabbing the ball back, he takes a moment to appreciate the cheers erupting from all around. The stands go crazy. He spots a sign held aloft by Adaine and Kristen, both girls stamping their feet in excitement. On the bench Fig is shouting at him, but he can’t notice over the pride glowing from Riz’s face.

He craves more of it. “This one’s for you, Riz,” he says, and charges towards the goal. Fabian slams the goalkeeper to the side and scores a point. Overcome with delicious victory, Fabian throws the ball and begins dancing.

Suddenly someone knocks him to the ground.

Ragh rages over him, teeth bared and drool leaking from his mouth. “You idiot,” he says, “you cost us a point!”

“What?”

Gorgug groans from his side. Craning his neck far enough, Fabian can see the taller boy hunched in on himself. Nursing his wound from the vicious attack he laid upon him.

“There goes our perfect game!” Ragh seethes, “You working against the Owlbears? Is it some kind of elf thing? Because if there’s one thing I don’t like it’s a traitor -”

“Get off of me!” Fabian says, shoving Ragh off of him. Standing he looks past his friend and notices the rest of the scene. His teammates glare at him, scowls hidden behind their helmets. The crowd flipped on him. They boo and taunt him, Adaine and Kristen hiding behind their hands. Gorthalax shakes his head while Fig breaks her clipboard with her knees and sets it aflame.

And Riz winces, as if the overwhelming embarrassment crushing Fabian was too painful to watch.

“Get it together,” Ragh shoves him, jogging over to the starting line, “We have a game to win.”

Owlbears triumph over Hudol with a wide margin. However the celebrations are muted since it wasn’t the landslide they were expecting. The locker room was silent where Fabian changed. No one clapped him on the back or flicked a towel in his direction in good cheer. What he did receive were fumbled assurances from Gorgug - who brushed off his apologies, saying there was no need - and Riz’s attempted jokes.

All Fabian wanted to do was crawl into his bed and die.

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

Fabian sits at Riz’s table confusedly following the red strings criss-crossing the corkboard in front of him. “Wait, how is the Daycare connected to the Pixie smuggling ring?”

Riz sighs, sipping at his coffee. “Okay, so the Pixies…” He launches into another explanation, Fabian doing his best to focus. But like before he stops listening and instead focuses on how Riz’s mouth moves to shape his words. The way his hands flit around and, at times, shake so much Riz nearly drops his coffee. And when he turns to point at his work Fabian’s eyes drop low to appreciate how his slacks cling to his tush.

“And the money from their operations gets funnelled from the Daycare and into these shell accounts,” Riz finishes, facing Fabian again, “Do you get it now?”

He doesn’t trust his voice, so he nods.

Riz smiles. “Good. Then that’s exactly how I’ll explain it to the others when we see them tomorrow.”

Fabian returns it, fiddling with his own mug. Like always they and their friends were wrapped up in some serious trouble. This time Kristen, in trying to set up a physical location for her Church of Yes?, accidentally rented out a space that used to hold illegal artifacts between trades. They discovered this when Gorgug picked one up and unleashed an army of gremlins that wrecked the barren floor. After beating them and destroying the orb Riz sent the evidence to his mother.

Hearing how it was stolen piqued their interest, and once again launched them on another adventure.

A few days of serious investigation later the group reconnected and went over their findings, Riz taking it down and setting the clues on the corkboard. The night dragged on and one after another their friends dropped. Gorgug left first, promising to meet them at school in the morning. After him Adaine said she needed her rest and invited Fig to join her and Kristen for a sleepover.

“Sure,” she said, “can we have a few brewskis and kick it before we hit the hay?”

“I don’t know,” Adain shrugged, “we can always ask Jawbone?”

“Sick!”

That was over an hour ago. Fabian felt the siren call of sleep singing to him, tempting him with the wondrous beauty of sleep. He fought against it as he did everything in life; clawing tooth and nail for what he wants. In this moment it’s to share the cramped kitchen with Riz and his cluttered corkboard.

Riz settles in the seat across from him, pouring another cup of coffee. “You want me to top you off?”

Fabian shakes his head, pushing his mug away. “I really shouldn’t. Too much and I might not be able to hold my sword without it shaking.”

“You get used to it,” Riz says, “Years of drinking this stuff allowed me to take into account the jitters for when I’m shooting my gun.”

“How early did you start drinking coffee?”

“Same as everyone else. Five?”

Fabian bites his lip, unwilling to shatter the illusion for his friend. Instead he glanced behind him at the corkboard again. “I must say, that sure is something…”

Riz follows his gaze. Smiling, he leans into the chair and takes a huge gulp of his drink. “We did a lot of good work. I know officers who can barely think past their patrols who wouldn’t have been able to do this.”

“I think the real credit goes to you,” Fabian says.

The other boy directs his smile at him. “You think so?” he asks, a small tint to his cheeks. Seeing him fluster brings a rush of warmth racing up Fabian’s chest, and he hopes a blush isn’t blooming across his own face.

Everyone knows how deeply Riz loves detective work. Aside from how he dresses and the never-ending supply of mystery novels he keeps in his briefcase, Riz also treats everyday matters like an investigation. Once a water fountain broke and, before the janitor could react, Riz canvassed the area with caution tape and began questioning witnesses for motives. During lunch he explained how, using deductive reasoning, Riz found the stolen item in his Rogue class and where his teacher hid it.

“That’s amazing!” Fig cheered, “Now do Porter! Find out exactly what evil schemes he’s working on!”

No matter what situation they were faced with Riz approached each mystery with a ferocious tenacity for finding the answers. Not willing to rest until every stone was uncovered and the truth was set free. Fabian cannot count the amount of times Riz’s quick thinking saved them or helped them see an important piece of evidence they missed earlier.

With the way Riz’s eyes sparkle under the flickering light bulb, Fabian wants to tell him how much he values and appreciates him.

Instead, what comes out is this. “No one else is as this obsessed with mysteries than you, The Ball.” Wincing, Fabian pinches his thigh in disappointment. Especially when Riz’s face falls.

“Oh…”

“That, I didn’t…” Fabian sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face, “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant to say at all.”

Riz tries to smooth his expressions, except Fabian can clearly see the lines marring his pretty face. “It’s late, I get it. Why don’t you turn in for the night?”

“Don’t you need my help?”

“It’s like what you said… I’m the only one obsessed enough to stay up this late. You don’t have to worry. I’ll crash on the couch if I need to.”

Fabian leaves, drained of any energy to stay and apologize. He shuffles over towards Riz’s room, closing the door behind him. Stepping over empty coffee mugs and sheaths of paper he stops at the smallish bed. Fabian strips off his jacket and jeans, folding them gently and leaving the pile on a clear space of floor. Then he curls up on the bed and wraps the wrinkled sheet around his shoulders.

There’s an ache in his chest where his heart is. Sleep won’t come until he’s finished lambasting himself for shoving his foot into his mouth. At least the smell from Riz’s pillow eases the blows, and gently cradles him as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

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

Sitting at his desk, Fabian thinks that he finally found a way to confess his feelings to Riz.

He got the idea from his mother after a particularly grueling day of training. Fabian laid on the lawn, gasping for breath and waiting as Cathilda prepares a protein shake for him. Hallariel stands beside him, checking her makeup using her sword’s reflective surface as a mirror. A few feet away, sitting on a lawn chair, was Gilear. His mother’s boyfriend played keep away with a seagull who wanted his yogurt.

Turning away from a remarkably hilarious sight, Fabian asked his mother, “How did father win your heart?”

Hallariel shrugged, “With his passionate lovemaking.”

“ Mama !”

“What? You asked me a question and I answered it. Did I do something wrong ?”

“No, I…” Fabian sighed, leaning up on his elbows, “I wanted to know if there was anything he did that might have made you… swoon . Something sweet and romantic. ”

Hallariel’s gaze darted away from her face to her son, smirking. “Does my darling boy fancy a girl?”

“Mama…” Fabian ducked away, blushing, “it’s not a girl …”

“Even better,” she grinned, “now you won’t deal with the crushing disappointment when you realized she could never be as good as your mother.”

He rolled his eyes. “There’s no one who could be more perfect than you, mama,” he said, reaching forward to accept the shake from a returning Cathilda, “except maybe Cathilda. If you’re number one she’s definitely number two.”

“Bless your heart, you young thing,” Cathilda said, hand over her heart, “the sweetest you are.” She moves over to Halladriel, “What were you two discussing now?”

“Fabian wants to know if Bill ever did anything romantic,” Halladriel explains, “probably so he can use it for inspiration in winning over his little crush.”

“Oh! Why don’t you tell him about the letters?”

“Letters?” Fabian asked, “What letters?”

“The sweetest things they were,” Cathilda tells him, “your father, Bill Seacaster, would write these beautiful letters to your mother and send them whenever he was away for months on end. Whenever they arrived I’d always read them aloud as Haladriel drifted off to sleep.”

“Papa wrote you letters?” Fabian looked to Haladriel, “Why didn’t you remember this?”

She shrugged again. “Honestly I was toasted so much during my time with your father a lot of it is still a blur…”

Cathlida clapped, drawing their attention towards her again. “We still have them!” she said, “They’ve been put away, but I can dig them out for you if you’d like?”

“I would be delighted.”

Reading through the letters provided Fabian with a lot of details he didn’t need, learning that the beautiful prose was essentially foreplay for his parents. Imagining Cathilda read about his father’s length forced him to pause and spend the next few minutes hovering near the toilet. When he recovered Fabian focused on finding the little bits that weren’t explicit. Where his father compared his mother to the beauty of the sea or explaining how his newly earned riches would look better once locked away with his most valued treasure - his family.

While a letter was deemed gauche by today’s standards, Fabian found the practice intimate. Halfway through composing his own letter, though, he was hit with the worry that his letter wouldn’t arrive. Maybe on the way to his apartment it would be lost or damaged. Perhaps someone other than Riz opens it up? Squanda, to check and make sure the letter wasn’t a bomb. Fabian wouldn’t be surprised if Fig stole Riz’s mail that day and read his feelings, only to then tell Riz and butchering his meaning.

He succumbed to the anxiety and decided on a more direct approach. Fabian transferred his writings to his phone, finishing the letter there to send through text.

Re-reading it for the third time, Fabian realizes he needs to send it.

Fabian copies the text and switches from his notes app over to the messages. Working quickly while the courage of his father swims through his blood Fabian clicks on Riz and his messages. He pastes the text and sends it, slamming his crystal onto the desk face down.

Staring at it won’t make Riz respond faster, yet he cannot pull himself away. Each minute ticks by slowly the longer his crystal stays silent. Allowing for horrible images to flash across Fabian’s mind. Like Riz laughing and sending the letter to their friends, a highly impossible outcome. But the one where Riz spends time crafting the kindest rejection is unfortunately a sound possibility.

Suddenly his crystal flashes to life. Fabian snatches it with terrifying speed, opening the newest message.

It isn’t Riz.

Aelwen cooly thanks him for his devotion, offering him a night of passion if he’s willing to make the journey. Scrolling upwards he sees all the words that poured from his heart - sent to the wrong person.

He hadn’t talked to Aelwen since his disastrous attempt to free her. Fabian managed to follow through on his promise and fought for her freedom alongside the ragtag crew he gathered for the mission. Dodging spells and powering through guards, Fabian rode the Hangman and crashed through her cell. Then, after a kiss filled with searching hands and tongue, he helped her onto his motorcycle and fled to his ship.

Halfway across the Celestine Sea, Aelwen showed her true colors. Fabian found her preparing a dinghy for leave one starless night. He asked her where she was going.

“I’m leaving,” she said, “Is that not obvious?”

“But… but why?” Fabian asked, gut screaming as if stabbed. “We’re almost to Solace. And there we can be together… I - I thought…”

“You thought what?” Aelwen snickered, “You thought that I’d go with you because you freed me? Sorry to break it to you but I don’t slum it with trash, even if they’re somewhat cute and entertaining as you.”

Vision spinning, he staggered backwards. “W-what?”

“Thank you for all your help,” she said, untying the last rope, “But I must return to Fallinel. A friend offered me a room at her estate when I was free and I’ve kept her waiting long enough.” Hopping into the dinghy, Aelwen winked at him one last time. “Do tell my sister one thing for me? Even though she’s now an oracle she still can’t see what a colossal disappointment she is to the Abernant name. Farewell!”

The rope slips from her hands and she drops into the ocean, nothing left but the splash on her exit. Fabian doesn’t run to see her off, rooted to the deck as the pieces of his heart spear through his boots. When he collects them, Fabian shuffles towards his cabin and hides them until they reach shore.

His reception wasn’t well received. Adaine screamed at him until her voice was hoarse, pounding against his chest until she slumped over and was led away by Kristen. Fig and Gorgug didn’t say anything but kept their distance for the next few weeks. Only Riz stuck by his side.

The other boy sat with him after everyone left, understanding that Fabian had to go and see Aelwen. “Once you make up your mind about something,” Riz chuckled, “it’s hard getting you to change it.”

Riz’s words held no judgement. Even as Fabian confessed everything, including how Aelwen used and left him; he asked how that made him feel and hugged him through the rolling wave of depression that swelled inside.

Things returned to normal after a while. Adaine forgave him, and their group drifted together again. Except it wasn’t the same.

During the days Fabian and Riz were left alone he finally began to take notice of how special and important the goblin boy was to him.

So seeing how disastrously he messed up something as easy as a text, sending it to the worst person imaginable, turns his hopes into ash.

Fabian deletes the messages and leaves his phone on silent.

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

It’s now or never.

Fabian needs to take a leap of faith and lead with action. His father would chastise him thoroughly for how he���s tiptoed across the whole ordeal. Inviting embarrassment by tiptoeing around Riz. When he should do first and apologize later - if at all.

The group sits huddled together in Basrar’s, enjoying some milkshakes. Ever since Adaine freed him from his curse, Basrar has branched out to include other items in his menu besides various ice creams. To varying levels of success. While his milkshakes were delicious Fabian suffered at the hands of his chicken nuggets.

But they’re not slurping them as vigorously as they usually do. Too worn out from fighting pirates all day at Seacaster Manor.

His crew from the Aelwen misadventure came calling for Fabian, demanding their pay. He should have seen this coming since, bereft of any common sense by the heartbreak, he gave them a map rumored to lead to the grandest treasures of all. Except he drew it up in less than five minutes and water-logged it with tears.

When they finally discovered the ruse the ship set course for their newest mission - robbing the accumulated riches of Bill Seacaster.

Pirates were no match, of course, for the combined efforts of his friends, his mother and housekeeper. “And Gilear,” Halladriel added, standing over the corpses of their enemies, “we couldn’t have done it without his help.”

He glared at the sad elf his mother rubbed against, her hands tugging at his jacket. They knew Gilear added nothing of value to the battle save for the accidentally flung yogurt that sabotaged the cannon firing at them. Halladriel wouldn’t hear reason and began undressing Gilear in front of them.

“Best to run along, children,” Cathilda ushered them away, “Who knows how long they’ll be at it.”

Kristen swallowed her vomit. “Gross.”

“It’s not gross,” Fig defended her second father, “it’s good for him.”

“Well it’s awful for me,” Fabian hissed, “let’s go before we hear anything.”

“Oh!” Halladriel cried from a distance, a cold chill shooting up his spine, “You taste so sweet! What is that flavor?”

“Nothing too adventurous… just a simple vanilla mango yogurt…”

Fabian led them away with blinding speed. They decided on Basrar’s thirty minutes into their wandering, too sore to stay upright for long. Sliding into the booth the group ordered and enjoyed the calm environment. For once the group rested quietly, enjoying the silence.

It was so peaceful Fabian could think clearly for the first time in a while. An epiphany floated down from above and entered his spirit, imbuing it with strength.

Riz rests against his shoulder, skin tingling under his shirt and jacket. The smaller boy was injured pretty badly during the fight. Kristen’s healing only helped so much and Riz looks seconds away from sleeping. Kept awake only by the gentle shakes from Fabian every so often.

He wants to do this before sleep lulls him away, so Fabian softly whispers Riz’s name. Riz glances at him, frowning. “Yeah?”

“Riz, I…” A voice that sounds like his father cuts through his mind, telling him to stow his words. Show the other boy what he feels and steal a kiss. Cooling his nerves, Fabian leans down to do that. To capture Riz’s lips with his own.

But then something cold drips onto his nose.

“What’s th-” A blob slams into Fabian’s face and knocks him backwards, falling onto the floor. He curses and wipes the mess clear. Investigating what hit him, Fabian finds the culprit was a stray scoop of ice cream.

“Oh my God!” Fig screams, “it’s raining ice cream!”

Ice cream pelts their station, inspiring different reactions from the group. Unlike Fabian they cheered at the surprise dessert storm.

“How is this possible?” Adaine asked, chocolate ice cream melting on her head, “Our wish was already fulfilled?”

Basrar drifts over, smiling. “That is true, yes. However, I received a call from a man named Gilear asking that I serve you kids a treat so you would stay far from the Seacaster manor a bit while longer. He asked me if I could conjure some yogurt, but I told him that my magic does not create something so... sad . So then he asked if I could give you all frozen yogurt, which I could only assume was a strange way of saying ice cream!”

“Are you kidding me!” Fabian growls aloud, “How did Gilear even find out where we were?”

“I texted him,” Fig says, scooping ice cream off of Kristen’s shoulder. “Figured he’d want to know where we were in case more pirates came back.”

He groans as more ice cream pelts his prone body. Squinting one eye open Fabian sees all his friends save Riz enjoying the treat. Riz smiles down at him, fondness shining in his eyes. Fabian flushes, turning away from the stare.

Shoes squish onto the ice cream as Riz jumps out of his seat. He offers a hand to Fabian, “Need some help?”

Fabian answers by weakly taking Riz’s hand, pushing forward.

Instead of standing Riz tugs Fabian closer to him and slips an arm around his waist. Riz kisses Fabian, surprising him and earning catcalls from their friends. He ends their embrace, still smiling.

Fabian cannot wipe the shock from his expression. “Did you-?”

“Do what you should have done from the start?” Riz chuckles, “Yeah. Did you like it?”

“Did I like it -?”

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

Lou slams his fist on the table. “This is some bullshit,” he says, “How is it that I’ve spent countless games rolling nat 1’s trying to seduce you. And the first time you decide to flirt back you roll a nat 20. Bullshit!”

“I’m as surprised as you are,” Murph laughs along with the other intrepid heroes, “Usually my rolls are the crap ones.”

“Is that why you never helped out until now?”

Murph grins, winking. “Nah, I liked seeing how many times Fabian suffered.”

He scoffs, “You think that’s going to make me want to kiss you again?”

Brennan jumps into the conflict, shoulders shaking with contained laughter. “With a nat 20 Fabian and Riz begin making out in the storm of ice cream.”

“Oh come on!” Lou cries, “Fabian’s supposed to be the dashing hero! He had to make the first move! These dice are cursed.”

Emily shakes her head, cackling. “Could be worse. Riz could’ve rolled a nat 1 and we’d have to sit through another round of you trying and failingseduction rolls.”

“It’s not easy,” Lou argues, “Love to see you try and get a nat 20.”

“I so could,” she says, “you saw how hot and heavy me and Dr. Asha got. The next time we see him I’ll roll and ask him to marry him.” Brennan rolls some dice, drawing the group’s attention. He barks a quick laugh, looking to Emily. Her smile falls, “Uh oh, what?”

“All the commotion of raining ice cream and teens making out means the entire store is looking at your booth. Especially one seat at the bar where a dwarven doctor relaxed after a long shift at St. Owen’s Memorial Hospital,” Brennan explains, chewing on a chip he sneaked. “He walks over and, to Fig, asks, ‘Dr. Keller? Why are you hanging with these teens and not at home watching the kids?”

Lou erupts with laughter, leaning back in his seat and clapping. Emily scowls, grabbing for her dice. “What do I have to roll.”

“Let’s start with a deception.”

“Okay I’m good with deception…” She rolls, slapping her hand against the table. “I got a four. But that’ll be over a ten.”

“Say what you’re going to say.”

Emily clears her throat, shifting in her seat. “I needed a break from the kids and release the inner child in my heart with these… actual children?”

Brennan squints, head skewed to the side. “Dr. Asha is taken aback by that, slightly, but wants to believe in your relationship. ‘Did you at least get a babysitter’?”

“Yeah, yeah they’re fine…”

Lou turns to her. “So, are you gonna ask?”

“I’m getting to it, I’m getting to it…” Emily says, “So, Dr. Asha, I know we’ve been seeing each other, and we have kids… I think we should take this to the next level. I think we should get married.”

Brennan rolls another die. “Make a seduction roll, with disadvantage.”

“Fine.” Emily drops two dice on the table. Looking between the two, she screams and drops her head onto the table.

“What did you get?” Brennan asks.

Zac, at her side, uproariously laughs. “She rolled a twenty and a one.” They all hiss at the disastrous roll.

“A twenty,” Emily chuckles self-deprecatingly, “How can I split it this bad?”

Lou asks Brennan, “What happens?”

Brennan rolls a few more dice before smirking at Emily, doom curling his lips. “As you ask this Dr. Asha’s phone lights up with a call. He answers it, and the real Dr. Kelly speaks from the other end. Asking if he can bring home a pint of ice cream for the twins.”

“Oh, crap.”

“And,” the dice ominously tap against the table. “When he hangs up a couple enters Basrar’s - one elven ranger and the other a ginormous demon. It’s Sandralyn and Gorthalax!”

“Seriously?” Emily hisses, “How is this possible?”

“It’s possible because of the dice, baby,” Brennan says, “They see you and come over. Gorthalax starts up, ‘Fig! Oh, my lovely daughter, Fig. We didn’t know you’d be hear. Are you having fun? It’s so great to enjoy the days of youth before it’s all over. Being a high school student can truly be some of the best times of your life. Anyway, we won’t cramp your hang - get home at a reasonable time, though!’ They seat themselves far away, leaving a stunned Fig and Dr. Asha.”

Chin trembling, Emily asks, “Does he still accept my proposal?”

Brennan claps, laughing. “Dr. Asha leaves immediately.”

“Dammit!”

“See,” Lou says, “it’s not that easy.”

Emily rolls her eyes, “Just enjoy making out with my husband, okay?”

“I will!”