#there is also the part where he gives yasha that flower and says ‘got it for you in case we live’

[dent-de-leon]

that part in the harvest close festival where Molly was looking for some silk flowers for Yasha ; ; Molly tucking little flowers in his horns and being so excited he found a lovely gift for his dearest friend—

[dawl-and-dapple]

rating: general word count: 1443

Essek and Jester being sweet, based on the non-sexual intimacy prompt 'escorting the other to a doctor/ therapist appointment' given by @mllekurtz

***

Can you drive me to the dentist next week pretty please?

It’s been almost a year since Essek had first been asked to give one of his friends a lift. The requests had slowed somewhat since Caleb finally got himself his own car two months ago, but he is not yet necessarily free from this particular duty. Now he receives a text asking to be driven out of town most often when Caleb is occupied with work, sick, or inebriated.

These texts used to make him wince. After some time they made him smile. These days, they tend to catch him a little off-guard.

Is Caleb not available? he responds.

No, Jester texts back, he’s got an appointment too. Are you gonna be busy?

No, I will be available. I’ll drive you.

Thank you!! I’ll meet you outside the school like usual!! Love you so much!!!!

Essek puts away his phone. He remembers where Jester’s dentist is from the last time she had him drive there. There’s a nice café two blocks away where he could wait out her appointment, reading and enjoying a cup of tea, before driving her home again. He puts his mind to picking out which book to bring.

Five days later, when Essek arrives in the small car park across from the art college, he’s twenty minutes early. He occupies himself by methodically checking his emails, texts, then social media.

Caleb has sent him a photo of Frumpkin playing with his television’s cables. Essek asks if he’s forgotten about his therapy appointment. Caleb responds with a photo taken through a windscreen of a city road, blocked with traffic as far as the eye can see, and a text reading, I wish I had.

Someone knocks on Essek’s window.

“Hey!” Jester’s nose presses up against the glass. “You got here early,” she says, muffled. “You should have let me know.”

“I am not going to encourage you to leave class early, Jester.” He opens the passenger door.

“Boo.” Jester flops into the seat and begins buckling herself in as Essek starts the engine. “We could have hung out a little! We’ve all been so busy since the summer and I miss you, you know. I wanna know how you’ve been! Do you wanna talk about work? Probably not. How about, um, how’s the new flat? I heard Caduceus helped you settle in.”

“I have been well,” Essek says as he pulls out of the car park. “You remember that miniature flower bed you helped me build on my windowsill? I have been growing a little basil plant there.”

“Oh! Have you used the leaves to make anything?”

Essek winces. Of the scant few recipes he could reliably prepare, most are from his home. He’d failed to find a Xhorhasian supermarket in the area after moving and had taken it as a strong sign to try working with what he’d been given. But his lack of experience cooking anything at all made adapting that much harder.

“The cooking part...I am working on that. I will be asking for Caduceus’ guidance again.”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” Jester says airily while digging through the small collection of audiobooks and music discs in the door compartment. “How long have you had these? Caleb’s car doesn't even have a CD player. Oh, I bet Caleb could help!” She grins at his reflection in the internal mirror. “He can make some very tasty Zemnian meals, you know.”

“I do know. I believe I’ve eaten one or two prepared by him at a dinner party with the others.”

“You should ask him to teach you the recipes.”

“I might. What did you get up to today? Painting? Sculpting?”

Jester smirks. She answers him, goes on to talk about her current project (a ten-foot-tall collage of hundreds of vintage pinup photographs, though Essek cannot parse the meaning of it). Essek gets the distinct impression that she’s barely holding herself back from needling him more.

As they reach the edge of the city, the traffic slows. A heavy sense of doom overcomes Essek, while Jester flips through the radio channels.

Someone behind Essek honks. He grits his teeth.

“Oh, the traffic here is pretty bad, huh.”

Essek flexes his hands around the steering wheel. “Yes, it seems so.”

Jester turns the radio off. “Do you have to be anywhere after this?”

“No,” he replies. The car comes to a dead halt. “I do not.”

Jester bounces in her seat as if she might be able to peer over the roofs of the dozens of gridlocked cars ahead of them. “Oh man,” she says. “I’d get there faster if I walked.” She goes quiet. After a heartbeat she smiles and turns towards Essek. “Hey Essek? Do you have any sexy audiobooks?”

“What?”

“Like, do you have a CD in here of someone reading a porn book out loud.”

“No, why would I have–?”

“That’s okay, I can plug my phone into the dashboard.”

“Please, Jester.”

“Okay!” She laughs, tucking her phone back into her jacket pocket. “What CDs do you have? All the titles are in Undercommon...”

“Most are audio documentaries. There are two about special relativity, one about magnetism, and one on the life of a particular astrophysicist. There’s also a rock album in there somewhere; my brother gave it to me as a joke.”

Jester snorts.

“I am very boring, aren't I?”

“No!” Jester suddenly grabs his shoulder and shoves him around in his seat, which would have worried him were they moving at any velocity at all. “You’re not! Essek, you’re very fun and interesting.”

Essek smiles as he’s shaken from side to side, keeping his eyes on the traffic jam ahead. “I am very fun and interesting,” he repeats.

She finally stops shoving at his shoulder. “I should get you some new fun CDs for your car. I don’t even know where to buy CDs these days, but I'll get you some.”

“Can you promise there will be no more than one pornographic item in this collection?” he asks, raising his brow at Jester in the mirror.

“Oh, sure.”

“Then, as they say, go wild.”

“Neat. Hey! I know we’ve all been super busy lately but I bet we can do, like, a dinner party or something. Just one evening. Yasha got back into town this week and Veth says Luc has been spending most weekends at his friends’ houses so she can come over. Maybe a Saturday night?” She’s pulled out her phone already. “We can just hang out in my and Fjord’s flat for a while. Or yours!”

“I do not think I have enough space for nine.”

“But would you be free?”

He thinks. “Next weekend, yes.”

Jester pumps her fist in the air. “Awesome! I’ll text the others.”

The traffic moves ever so slightly. Essek watches the cars ahead of him like a cat watching a bird.

“Beau might be the busiest but I bet she’ll want to come. Oh, Caleb can cook something with Caduceus! One of those meals you liked.”

“Uh, maybe.”

“Maybe you can show him a recipe you know too. Try that sometime.”

“Hm.” The car in front finally budges. Essek inches forward.

“I bet he’d love that, Essek.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know you don't think you’re a good cook, but I remember that rice meal you made when I came over last spring and it was good!”

Now they’re driving again, if at no more than five mph. Essek grips the wheel.

“Make that meal, put on a good movie, wear something cute — that black top with the long sleeves I think — and it’ll be smooth sailing. Trust me, Fjord was no match for the tried and true Lavorre Technique.”

“Hm.”

“And then maybe you can finally talk to him about your big fat crush on Cay-leb.”

The car directly ahead halts. Essek swears and steps on the brake. He stares at Jester. “Pardon?”

She just grins at him.

“I was not listening. Sorry.”

��Oh that’s okay,” she croons, “But guess what…”

Essek is familiar with this tone. It doesn't scare him as much as it used to; he’s developed somewhat of a pavlovian response to her mischief in spite of his initial displeasure. As her grin widens, Essek feels a mirrored anticipatory smile spread across his face.

“You’re stuck in here with me,” she sings, waving her index fingers side-to-side with each word, “and we’re stuck in here together, and I wanna know the truth. So…” She leans forward. “Don’t you like him?”

Essek, face hot, but still smiling, reaches for the radio fast enough to fumble the air conditioning.

[saphirered]

Every Second Counts

A little Mollymauk x acrobat!reader that’s been floating around my head. I hope it turned out well. 

You’d been with the circus for a while. You’re part of the family. You are the prime example of agility over strength in appearance but that doesn’t take away from the fact you have muscle control some may ever only dream of. While you are less of a contortionist you’re still very flexible. You could say you’re more of an acrobat. Your circus family is also aware you have an affinity for being sticky-fingered. Your light and quick movement has helped you lighten the pockets of individuals many times before. You have the face of a talker. Attractive as your tongue is quick and you are not afraid to put that charm to good use. All these traits gained you the interest and undivided attention of Mollymauk Tealeaf. 

The man knows little shame and doesn’t hold back when he’s actually telling the truth. He was never shy to make his attraction to you clear but never put pressure on you or have expectations. If you liked him, then you did, and if not so be it. If you told him you liked him, great, if not, that’s fine. If you wanted him not to be affectionate towards you, hug you, sit close to you, pull you into his lap or sit down in yours, he won’t. Molly is aware there’s a difference between pushing the line and crossing a boundary. He’s respectful of those hard boundaries and won’t cross them. 

You’d catch Molly sitting in the audience section of the tent while you were rehearsing for the night when he wasn’t on duty for something. When he was, and Gustav would find him he’d be scolded and told to go back to work, many things to be done before the shows. You’d blow him a kiss when Gustav would threaten to get Yasha or Bo to drag him out, a threat the man would make good on and therefor Molly had to leave one way or another. He’d prefer to leave with his dignity somewhat intact. 

Whenever he could, he’d enlist you to go into town with him to attract an audience for the show. If you had other things to do priorly, they’d somehow already been done or someone else would be doing them by the time you were ready to do them. You had to compliment Mollymauk’s efforts just to spend more time with you. Trickery, bribery and other methods of persuasion were not out of the question to reach this goal. You had to compliment his efforts. 

You never minded any of these things as you enjoyed spending time with Molly. The only hindrance standing in your way had always been your responsibilities and him changing them so they would align, had to be a blessing. Whenever he was successful persuading Orna, one of the most difficult to persuade to switch with, he’d pick you up and spin you around proclaiming proudly he had done it again. 

Your relationship is very organic and in the moment. You’d say you’re in a relationship but neither of you would say you’re boyfriend/girlfriend, husband/wife, partners, friends with benefits or anything alike. You’re you and he’s him. You care about each other, love each other, you spend time together, hug, cuddle and kiss. You’re affectionate, sleep in the same spaces, and sleep together. You do all the stuff couples would do but neither of you ever cared to define your relationship. You’re you and he’s him and that’s all that mattered. This arrangement works for both of you and neither of you feel the need to define or change it.

You’re practicing as the tent is being set up by the heavy lifters. Camp is already sorted so you found yourself with some free time you put to use to warm up a bit. Using one of the smaller tall poles secured you climb up onto the top. You stand on one leg the other parallel to the ground, jump and switch legs, one leg up straight into the air moving your body down until your palms touch the pole. You move your balancing leg up as well and shift the weight to your arms, kicking legs forward, backward and repeat one-handed. You switch to balancing on your lower arms and keep going through the motions to warm up. You hear a whistle. 

“While I’d hate to interrupt, Gustav says you’re with me, dear.” The familiar lavender tiefling smiles looking up at you. You sit down one leg over the other and smile back at him.

“Oh really? Gustav said so? How much did that cost you?” You say innocently. 

“Only three days of dishes and I washing Desmond’s costume after closing night.” Well, at least that wasn’t the worst. 

“Did Gustav tell you I’m free until tonight or did he forget to mention that.” Your smile changes into a grin as Mollymauk frowns.

“That bastard…” You hear him whisper under his breath at the realisation he got roped into cleaning duty for nothing. 

“Come on, let me make good on your deal.” You wrap your legs around the pole and lean backwards. Molly lifts his hands above his head high enough for you to grab them. You hold on and release the pole balancing solely on his hands as he takes a few steps back before you flip over and land on your feet on facing Molly. 

“Thank you. Shall we?” You kiss his cheek grabbing his arm and pulling him along towards the town. 

——————————————————————————

You’d been informed the town houses some dirty rich folks and it’s noticeable by the fine silks and flashy jewellery. Good reason to have increased the ticket price for the shows. Molly and you go around talking to groups and individuals alike, handing out flyers and persuading them to come see the show. You managed to get some excited folks to come see the show but for some more hardheaded individuals you had to throw your charm into the ring. A husky voice, fake interest, a touch of the arm and a bat of the eyelashes got you very far. 

One rather grumpy individual took a bit more to persuade and neither of you were willing to put in the effort after the good round you’d already had. But you did catch a flashy ruby ring and golden bracelet. With their attitude you found yourself justified to relieve them of these possessions during your pitch, for their own good of course. Only later the mention of that person’s name confirmed them to be an entitled asshole day and night, justifying your actions even more in your mind. Molly knew you took something on your little field trip but didn’t know what and you intended to keep it that way.

The night after the show Molly is cleaning dishes with the water from a nearby stream. You make your way over inspecting the stack of clean bowls, plates and cups.

“Came to see my good work?” He scrubs another bowl, checking it and putting it with the pile. 

“No. Desmond told me some of them want a second round after all so they need their dishes back. Mollymauk groans, takes the towel and throws it at you. You catch it before it hits you. 

“Rude! I’m just kidding, well half kidding. I managed to persuade them to leave the leftovers for breakfast tomorrow to spare you more dishes.” You take a bowl from the stacked clean dishes and begin drying it. Molly bumps his hip into yours. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re the real devil between the two of us.” Molly hands you the next dish stealing a kiss. 

“Oh shush. You know I’m a saint.” 

“A saint of thievery, deception and trickery.” He points an accusatory finger at you and you slap it away.

“But a saint no less.” You counter grabbing the pointing finger. Molly pulls you closer and kisses your hand giving you one of his trademark charming looks.

“Are you going to tell me what you took earlier today?” He leans in close placing one hand on your hip and swaying slightly in a dancing motion. You deliberate for a second before you hold his chin between your fingers until he’s millimetres away from your face.

“Back to the dishes Mollymauk.” The demeanour drops and you the victor of this little game between the two of you as you take a step back, pick up the cloth once more and continue drying the dishes. The accusatory finger returns and pokes your side.

“Hey, it was a team effort so I have a claim to fifty percent of what you got!” You innocently continue your job, or well, Molly’s job.

“Whatever you say, darling Mollymauk.” You grin as he flicks water at you. 

“You are infuriating.” He exclaims as you finish the dishes and return them to their place.

——————————————————————————

The next few days consisted of Mollymauk continuously bringing up ‘his share’ of the find but you played along innocently talking around in circles. You had plans and when they’re completed you’ll share them but for now, a secret they will remain. He had tried going through your things when unpacking some things for you, something not done secretly but you humoured him and let him try anyway. Coming to the conclusion it wasn’t among your things and definitely not on your person, or he’d definitely have known, he tried to interrogate you to see if you had given it to someone else to hold onto. Gustav, Yasha, Kylre, and even little Toya told him anything. The downside of your little family; they lie for their own if they have to and are experts at keeping their mouths shut. 

You’re going off into town to check on your project. Sneaking away was successful with the help of Yasha keeping Molly busy for the day to the point where he couldn’t get out of it. You’d make sure to pick her up some flowers on the way as a thanks. 

Next stop; the jeweller. You had melted down the gold and taken the ruby out of its setting but you didn’t have the tools to cast anything let alone make moulds so you had to outsource. Luckily the jeweller was more than happy to help you fashion what you wanted made for a generous price, one you were willing to pay to get what you want. Today you got to pick it up. It came out exactly how you had hoped it would. Paying and thanking the jeweller you picked up some flowers and gathered some from the road on your way back. 

Back at the camp you saw Yasha and Molly sitting together while he played with his cards. You approach them handing Yasha the bought bouquet and gathered one.

“Thank you for keeping him busy for a bit, Yasha.” 

“No problem. Thank you for the flowers. They’re very pretty.” She gets up, picks up her sword and goes off to see what else needs to be done leaving the two of you alone. 

“So I have to do dishes for 3 days and clean Desmond’s costume and you get away with a bouquet and some wildflowers? You sure you’re not the one with the devil’s tongue, love?” You give him a wink. 

“I’m off to practice. Can you behave and entertain yourself for the next hour or so?” 

“Of course I can but I make no promises that I will. Have fun.” You kiss his cheek walk backwards and give a little wave as you go towards the big tent to practice your set for the show. 

——————————————————————————

Warm up went well, your usual set too but the new one you’re working on is still a bit tricky to figure out. You don’t fall or anything and your moves are on point but it’s still lacking a sense of consistency and fluidity. You’d have to blame your thoughts being elsewhere. You try for the so-many-eth time you’ve lost count. Cartwheel flip centre stage, pointe landing, bow, aerial flip forward. Good. Entrance on point. Reach stage left, stage right, pirouette pointe spins, silk ropes lower, wrap arm, and up. 

You continue your routine, twisting and turning, dropping and climbing using the silk ropes, swinging around, performing intricate and impossible moves for eyes of the untrained individual. When you’re practically upside down in a split towards the end of your time you watch Mollymauk enter the tent and plop down. You continue your routine regardless making brief eye contact with him. He claps whenever you finish a set like the audience would. 

Final move you drop down from the top of the aerial silks but stop just before you hit the ground. You vault back up until your feet touch the ground and take a bow ending your set. Molly claps again and you’re about to climb up when he rushes over so you halt. 

“So have you decided yet? When I’ll get my share? I’ve been wanting to buy something but am short on coin. I could really use it.” He tries to persuade as you step up close to him. 

“Patience dear. When you’re ready I’ll give you your share.” You give him a light peck that he turns into a deeper kiss. Deciding to use this opportunity you stealthily begin wrapping the silk around his waist. You break the kiss and stroke his cheek. 

“I think I’m ready. Isn’t that worth something?” You laugh at his attempt. You know he isn’t really interested in the gold. His own curiosity is just getting the better of him and making him antsy so this whole thing is more of a game to him than anything else and he still thinks he can be the victor. Little does he know… At the minimum this could be considered a draw, at the most, your win. 

You begin taking steps backward away from him towards the stage entrance of the tent. He steps along with you. At least he does until the silks hold him back. You laugh as Molly looks confused for a second until he realises what you did. 

“Very funny love.” You reach into your pocket producing a couple of gold coins and hold them up in front of him just out of reach. 

“Are you, love? You seem to be a little tied up.” You tease watching him untangle himself. Once he does a comes for you reaching for the gold. You side step out of the way. 

“Try again.” 

“Missed me.” 

“Almost.”

“Oops.” 

You speak through giggles as tries again and again to get the coins but you’re much faster. Having run enough circles you climb up the rope just out of his reach hanging upside down, the coins just inches from his finger tips. 

“We have got to stop meeting like this Mr. Tealeaf. Imagine what people might think.” You gasp sticking out your tongue.

“You and I both know neither of us care what people might think. Now you’ve had your fun. I concede. You win. I admit my defeat.” You take the coins back and put them in the pouch and allow yourself to slide down and right way up again in a split between the two silks. You reach into a different pocket and hold your hands behind your back.

“I said I conceded didn’t I. Or would you prefer me to beg at your feet too?” He jokes as you take your sweet time. 

“You don’t sound opposed.” You blow him a kiss. 

“Never.” He stands close enough for you to lean a hand on his shoulder. 

“Close your eyes Molly. I have a surprise for you.” Molly closes his eyes but you see him peak so you flick his nose. This time he closes his eyes proper. You take out the trinket you had made from the bracelet and ring; a beaded gold chain with a rayed sun and ruby centre stone, and begin attaching it to the other jewellery around his horns. You give him a kiss to signal he can open his eyes. 

“What did you-“ You flick at the new addition to his collection. 

“A little gift. I thought you’d prefer it over the coin. Though if you need the coin you can borrow mine.” Molly inspects the sun and recognises the ruby cut. 

“You little-. Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He peppers you with kisses as you lower yourself out of your split and to the floor. 

“Many times but I don’t mind being reminded of it.” You give him a smug smile as he pulls you in a deep kiss. 

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

When you pull apart Mollymauk places another kiss to the top of your head and you lean your head against his shoulder living in the moment. You stand in each other’s embrace for what feels like an eternity, yet still an eternity too short. Every second is as valuable as the next so you bathe in each moment you get. You’re you and he’s him and that’s all you’ll ever need. 

[themagicmistress]

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Coming.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re for you,” she refutes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She licks her lips, still sticky-sweet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t leave,” Yasha says.

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

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

“Does asking these questions help you usually?”

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tokyo Love Story (Part 6) The Fight

This scene does not appear in the books or the game. This is a scene that relates to the MC and her journey in my “Main Story Quests Rewritten” series but takes themes and information from what happened to Kogure and Akira Sakurai. One thing that is not communicated well in the game, is that Kogure and Akira were put in positions to die. The things that happened to them didn’t “Just Happen”. It was arranged.

I can’t ask you to enjoy what I’ve written, but I hope you read it and feel emotions.

In the park where you had taken shelter from Hydra, you were now trapped by them. You and Chance were unable to escape and Chisei Gen now stood over Chance while you hid behind a Buddha statue, still out of sight. You’re not sure what to do. While you were strong and fast and clever. Chisei Gen was stronger and faster than you. There wasn’t much cover, it wouldn’t be a lot of time before he found you. All you had was your deadpool claw dagger, but the sword Onimaru could even cut through that.

Chisei Gen loomed over the trembling whimpering Chance. “I’m only going to ask you once. Where is Ruri Kazama?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” He held out his hands, pleading and in a flash of light, one of his fingers disappeared. 

Chance’s agonized screams drove you to press your fingers into the ground. You didn’t care if you toppled a few buildings. You would use your Soul Skill if you had to make this stop! You just needed Chance to hang on for a few seconds. Just a few seconds!

“I’m telling the truth!” Chance clutched his wrist and fell to his side. Wide-eyed with terror, sweating with pain, he gasped. “After Ryoma Sakurai died, information stopped coming from up top. I didn’t even know Kazama was going to show up in town until he was there! I swear!”

You close your eyes tighter, the tendrils of spiritual energy pierce the ground, racing to gather and spread. Then your head is pulled up on your neck!  You're pulled up by your hair. You have to stand on tip toe to relieve the pressure on your scalp. A smooth slimy voice chuckles. “Oh ho ho… Hey boss! I found a little rabbit!”

Your eyes go wide. If he saw your face… Thinking quickly, you pull the golden comb out of your hair to release your bangs. They descend like a waterfall over your eyes.

“No! Let her go! Please!” Through your dark locks, Chance furiously tries to reach for the dagger in his leg.

“If you pull that out, you’ll bleed to death.” The mocking voice from behind you reminded you so much of the pantysniffer. “Oo… she’s young too… Boss, when you’re done with this guy can I have her?”

Chance’s face twists with anger but you meet his eyes and give a little shake of your head.

“I don’t care, Yasha.” Chisei turned back to Chance. “You’re Inuyama Ichirou, a Rank A hybrid, Code: Orange. You’ll lose control at any time, but you’ve evaded our tracking and have gone unmonitored…”

“I haven’t killed anyone!” Chance gasps from the ground. “I just worked as a prostitute and cater to clientele who like it rough. It’s what I do. It’s how I satisfy it. It’s all consensual.” True to his nature, Chance let out a laugh even though he could see his reflection in that blade that had killed so many of his fellow hybrids.

Yasha turns to you and you stay still to try maintain your focus on your soul skill, but your temper and fury rises. Your eyes glittered like hard black stones behind your hair. Yasha whispers in your ear. “You like it rough too huh?”

You didn’t just need to stay still for your sake, you needed to stay still for Chance’s. If Chance tried to fight Chisei, it would be over before you could do anything. You look at Chance again and shake your head.

“Huh!” Yasha’s eyes widened slightly. “A brave one.”

“Despite that…” Chisei continues slowly, sending an annoyed glance at Yasha. “I can’t just let you go. You need to be monitored.”

“Please… don’t kill me. Don’t send me to prison. I’ll live quietly, like I always have. I’ve always lived quietly. And… “ A tear slipped down his cheek. “I love her. I love her. Please.” He fell at Chisei’s feet, bowing until his forehead touched the ground. “Let us go to Hokkaido.” He turned to you. “Let’s go to Hokkaido. There’s a lot of snow there. We’ll go and we’ll get married in the snow.”

“Okay.” You say, softly, staying still. Your voice is gentle and sweet, in contrast to the brutal scene. “I’ll marry you in Hokkaido.”

Despite his fear and the pain crashing through him, Chance smiled through his tears. “Good. That’s good. Then in that case, I will renounce all ties to the Devil Clan!”

Chisei doesn’t say anything but the tip of his sword lowers. “Sakura. Go tell the others to finish searching the car. Yasha, let the girl go and go with her.”

Yasha let out a sad little whimper and released your hair. You sink down to the ground and the rest of your hair forms a curtain around your face. The flowers tilt askew, still hanging on by just their pins. Yasha stuffs his hands in his pockets and slouches sullenly as he ambles down the path out of sight.

“I will need your information so I can track you.” Chisei kneels next to Chance and Chance stares in wonder as Chisei pulls a handkerchief from his trenchcoat to wrap his hand where he’s now missing a finger.

Tears were already flowing down Chance’s face and now they became a torrent. “I want my nieces and nephews back! They took the children! I can’t go without them too!”

Chisei calmly ties the wound with a stiff knot.. “From where?”

“From the Residential District in Tokyo. The one that burned. My brothers fought so the kids wouldn’t be taken. They’re all orphans now… so they were taken to the prisons.”

Chisei let out a breath and then he nodded. “Alright. Give me a list of their names. Once you get to Hokkaido, I’ll have them released to you. But you have to stay monitored. That’s all I ask.” Chisei stands up and starts wiping his sword with a cloth.

Chance is shaking but he’s slowly returning to his confidence. He turned to you and smiled. Your chest swells with pride. Not only could Chance save you, but also what remained of his family.

Chance reached into his jacket and pulled out a vial of purple liquid. When you see it and when Chisei sees it, you both gasp. You remembered this vial from the man with the stripe suit who had used it to turn into a monster to fight Caesar. You never thought that Chance would be holding a vial of such deadly poison. No wonder he cried so much in your arms when you told him to live! He was holding a suicide pill right in his hand!

“I was planning on using this if we got in a pinch… but not any more.” Chance said gently.

“Who gave you that!” Chisei hissed. He had gone pale faced, his expression taut. His hand tightens on his blade.

“I don’t know. It was next to my head when I woke up one morning. Whoever left it, left a note saying I was at the end of my life and I should use my time to dance brightly.” His eyes narrowed in hatred as he held it up. “...like a moth in the flames…” He threw it hard into the pea gravel. The vial shattered and the purple liquid seeped into the ground.

Chisei lunged forward, brandishing his sword. You leap to your feet and rush to meet him.

From the shadow of the trees in the park, a muzzle of a gun flashes and the bullet that should have struck Chance in the heart, shatters across the sword Onimaru! The shrapnel sparkled in the air like gold dust and scattered onto the ground.

You skid to a halt and a bullet whizzes just by your head! 

Chisei snarled, crouching over a stunned Chance, his body blocking him from the hidden shooter. His eyes are dark with rage. “I knew it!”

You thought Chisei was attacking Chance, but Chisei was protecting him!

You both spot the hidden assassin at the same time. He’s lying low in the bushes in dark camouflage and had to have been watching the entire scene.

The assassin pops the cork off his own vial of the elixir and upends it into his mouth. Immediately, black vines crawl up his arms and neck, followed by shining white scales. His fingers extended beyond the limits of known life and his face shrunk into something monstrous!  He leaps directly at Chisei, clearing the distance in a single bound, screaming like a wild thing. Chisei moves aside just enough to allow the claw to scratch his cheek. He only lifts the tip of the sword slightly. The momentum of the newborn dead pool carries it into the tip, slides him all the way down the blade, to the hilt. Chisei doesn’t waste time or words. He raises his foot and kicks the would-be assassin to the ground, stands over him and stabs him once through the neck. With a single twist, you hear the vertebrae snap.

Chisei looks at Chance coldly, waving his sword once and splashing the black blood into the grass. “The Devil Clan is exploiting the desperation of its members when it's giving them that poison. This is the third time this has happened. First was with Akira Sakurai, the lab experiment who helped create this vile liquid. Second was Ryoma Sakurai who drank it to end her life at the Paradisio. The person giving it to them intends for them to die. Each time, they talk about moths… and flames… when I find out who is behind that toxin, I will kill him myself.”

Chance’s hands balled into fists. “But it’s you Hydra who are driving us to desperation. You’re not excused!”

“Chance… let’s go…” You move next to him to try to help him up. You want Chisei to let you go while you have the chance and while he still doesn’t recognize you.

“You should go quickly. That assassin was a Devil Clan member hidden among our ranks. Get tickets to Hokkaido. I’ll provide a safe place for you until this is all over. I’m afraid you won’t be able to trust anyone else.”

“MC…” Chance looks at you, whispering earnestly. “Do I get a star-heart?” He chuckles low in his throat.

You laugh that he’s still thinking of that silly game. “Of course you get a star heart. You can have all the star-hearts.”

He stands up and then suddenly pulls you to him. He holds you close, pressing his body against yours. His breathing accelerates like he’s just run a marathon. He kisses you but it’s not like the kiss from before. This is more like Z’s forceful, penetrating kiss but ten times more aggressive. His fingertips press into your back hard, so hard they might leave bruises. And then his fingers send sharp pangs into your back, like the nails have turned to needles. You want to scream. Your eyes widen and you try to pull away but his grip is so tight now, you feel as though your bones might break. When you look into his eyes, they’re blood shot and then they blaze golden!

Even though Chance didn’t take the molotov cocktail, the dragon blood in his body has been raging all his life, like the fuse on a bomb. He knew the eventuality and had maintained his human nature for a long time. But now, the excitement of freedom, of love, the smell of blood and the adrenaline of violence had pushed him over the edge. He wasn't losing control because of poison, he was losing control by his own nature!

Chisei’s attack was swift, and Chance turned to defend himself. Bone claws had started to grow from his hands just like they did with the assassin, but it was your bronze dagger that flashed up in an arc and sent Chisei staggering back. He stared at you, wide eyed, finally getting a good look at your face through your hair and makeup. “MC?!”

A look of horror passes over his face. He had wanted to get to know you over sake, but instead, you’d seen him torture and nearly kill the man you loved.

You don’t care about Chisei, you rush to Chance who’s clutching his head and staggering, moaning loudly in pain.

“Chance!” You grab his shoulders and look into his face, pleading. “Chance, you have to live, do you hear me? You have to fight it! Fight!”

His eyes flicker from green to gold and he stares at you in fear. “I’m trying…” 

He falls to one knee and you follow him down, your hands sliding down his arms. You try to keep eye contact as he swayed like someone drunk..

“Chance, you have to live. You have to live. Please… please remember.” You glance back at Chisei. His sword is low and his eyes are dull and empty as he looks at you. 

He doesn’t look like he’s going to attack. You turn back to Chance. “You can’t lose it now. You can’t!”

“I don’t want to…” He sobs. “I’m...so… close.” The dark veins on his hands slowly start to retract and the scales stop their progression. His will to live and to love you is so strong that the dragonization process has halted. He meets your gaze with sparkling green eyes. “I love you.”

You cradle his face in your hands and smile at him, lovingly. “You’re doing it!” You turn back to Chisei, face radiant. “He’s doing it!”

Chisei doesn’t share your enthusiasm. A heavy sadness has fallen over the man and he doesn’t move.

You look at Chance again, willing the scales to fall, willing the veins to retract. You shake his shoulders to rouse him. “I told you. You can live.”

“We’ll get married in Hokkaido.” He says, his eyes lidding half closed. He sounds sleepy, overcome with incredible weariness. “In the snow.”

“Yes.” You nod.

“We’ll raise my nephews and nieces.”

“Yes!” You laughed, tears of joy ran from your eyes.

“I’m… so happy…” He rests his head against your chest and you lightly stroke his hair. You press your lips against his head and close your eyes. For a moment, you hug him like a mother would soothe a child after a terrible nightmare. “Just focus… focus on getting better.”

“...Bye…” His voice is scarcely above a whisper.

Your eyes snap open. He pushes you to the ground and the claws rip across your dress. The delicate lace floats into the steady breeze. You’re on your back, looking up as the darkness of the sky surrounds the bright golden eyes of the person who was once Chance - Inuyama Ichirou. There was no human there, only a vicious animal. His hand closed on your throat.

You should have fought, but your training didn’t kick in. Your mind is completely blank. His face is withering away inches from yours. His skin is turning a sickly grey-green. But you don’t want to use your dagger. Or your soul skill. You want him to stop. To fight it.

In that moment, a strong arm wraps around Chance’s throat like a python and pulls him back. In the next instant, the bright blue sword pierces from his back through his chest, sending blood raining down on your hair, your face, your dress.

Chance flails wildly, gasping. “Wait… wait!” 

“Wait!” You cry. His eyes are green again. Chance was still fighting!

Chisei lets him fall however. He turns him over on his back with his foot. Chance can no longer speak, gurgling blood rising up out of his mouth.

“Stop!” You leap and take hold of Chisei’s sword arm in an attempt to disarm him but his elbow slams into your chest so hard your feet come out of your slippers, you sail through the air and land so hard on the ground you’re stunned breathless.

When you sit up, Chance is struggling, gagging against the sword in his neck. Chisei retracts it and he lays still.

You can’t even scream. You run even though it's too late. Your spirit feels out of your body and the ringing in your ears makes the world go completely silent. You don’t remember falling next to Chance, but in the next instant you’re cradling his head, rocking back and forth like the abandoned Izanami. You can feel the warmth of the blood soaking into your fine hanfu.

The scales leave Chance’s pale face and the skin left there is perfect, like a child’s skin. He looks beautiful. But he’s dead. He would never open his eyes again, speak to you again, or kiss you. You’re not getting married in Hokkaido and his relatives would languish in prison. You thought you had it. You thought you could defy the world. But the world is too cold and cruel to you to grant you such happiness.

You remove your tattered silk shawl from your shoulders and press it into the wounds. There’s so much blood that the thin fabric seems to dissolve into it. You turned to Chisei who was still pale, his jaw was clenched as he looked at you with a dull, heavy depression. 

The sky above you had grown darker and darker and now it finally opened up, releasing a flooding torrent from above that soaks you in cold rain. You gather yourself up to your feet.

“You murderer…” You point at him with one pale hand, your dark hair plastered on your face. “Killer!”

Lightning flashes and thunder snaps through the air as though the judgement was sustained by God.

Chisei shook his head slowly. “He was gone…” His voice is soft, but despite his attempt to be firm with you, the words were trembling.

“No!”

Chisei freezes. You’ve flung the shawl at him. The blood flies in an arc and you paint Chisei with it, like Jackson Pollock flinging paint on a canvas. It splashes up and down his white shirt and dark pants. “His blood…” You breathe the words in and out in fury. “His blood is red!”

Chisei looks down and palms the stain on his shirt. It was crimson without a trace of black.

“Chance was still fighting! He didn't give up! He didn’t die because it was hopeless. He died because you gave up on him!” You fling the shawl at him again.

Chisei flinches away from the rain of blood. His expression relaxes and the cold emotionless look returns to his eyes. He turns his back to you. “MC. You’re still wanted by the Executive Board. But… if you run… I’ll give you a head start.”

You gasp in disbelief at such bold insensitivity. The remorselessness struck you colder than the rain. However, the shock reminds you that there’s no point in fighting once the person you love is gone. Instead, you remove the gold chains from Chance's neck and give him one last lingering look. He looks like he’s sleeping peacefully there in the rain. You hold the chains tight to yourself and dash away towards the gate. You clear it in a single bound and disappear into the night.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

be as you’ve always been

Alternate Title: everyone’s nb bitch, let’s get you some gender affirming underwear

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This is based on a request by the lovely @minky-for-short and some truly beautiful art of Caduceus which you can see and bask in here. Huge thanks to @tendermosses for letting me base a ficlet on their work and for always doing such amazing art for fjord and caduceus! 

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Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 or reblogging to let me know what you think!

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Caduceus had known, since moving out of the grove and into the city, that his life went at a very different pace to most people’s. He didn’t know if it was because he was a firbolg, because he talked more to trees with lifespans of centuries than to people or because of brain chemistry reasons. But why's had never particularly concerned Caduceus, he tried to take people as they were, as long as they did the same for him.

And these people made decisions almost without thinking, they moved from one task to the next without pause, one word could send them careening onto a completely new train of thought while Caduceus was stuck on one three stations back.

And some did it so quickly, so without any kind of traceable logic, that all Caduceus could do was cling on as tight as he could and follow along in complete ignorance to see where he ended up.

But then he spoke to some of his friends and realised, to his mild relief, that no. That was just what Mollymauk and Jester were like.

He also realised that sometimes it led to very good things.

Molly and Jester were two of his closest friends and two of his most regular customers, given that the theatre where Mollymauk worked was just down the block and that Jester had an addiction to sweet things. They were usually there, talking together or with their partners, and Caduceus had grown to love the sound of their voices mixing pleasantly with the noise of the cafe.

That evening, a half hour shy of closing, they had both been sitting on the tall chairs against the counter, Jester’s short legs swinging happily halfway up, Molly’s lanky ones folded underneath him but they would have touched the floor if he’d let them. The discussion had turned to sewing, how best to work with the sequined and beaded fabric Molly needed to wrestle for the theatre’s next show without breaking his sewing machine.

Caduceus had been scoring tomorrow’s loaves with the elaborate leaf and vine patterns he liked to do, bringing his work out onto the counter because there were no other customers in and so he could listen to his friend’s chatter. Jester had been recounting a memorable night with some sequinned lingerie she’d bought the other week, how so many had come loose and turned up in places they weren’t meant to be that she’d had to buy new sheets, Molly cackling and snorting at all the appropriate places. Or, rather, inappropriate places.

Caduceus had murmured, not particularly minding whether they heard him or not, that lingerie mystified him a little but he’d always wanted to give it a try.

The immediate silence told him his friends had definitely heard. And the look they gave each other, barely concealed glee and eagerness, told him they intended to do something about it.

Which brought Cad to where he was now, legs folded almost up to his chest, in the cramped passenger seat of Mollymauk’s car. Caduceus didn’t know a lot about cars but it didn’t take much to see that Molly’s had gone beyond being on its last legs and was now running on pure willpower and prayers to the Moonweaver. It felt like the bass of the music pouring out of the speakers was going to be enough to shake it apart and Jester piped up from the back seat that the door handle had come off.

“There’s duct tape under the seat, babe,” Molly called back, unconcerned, learning forward to turn down the volume when he saw how Cad was wincing but being too awkward to say anything.

“You really don’t need to do this,” Cad insisted gently, “You’ve both been working all day, it’s getting late...”

“So have you,” Jester pointed out, voice a little indistinct through the strip of tape she was holding in her teeth, “And we don’t mind, it’ll be fun! We can help you pick out something nice! Anyhow, Beau and Yasha are at the gym until eight, Fjord too.”

“And Caleb has the kids,” Molly hummed, spinning the wheel lazily, far further than he should really have to just to take an easy corner, “This is a bonding exercise, Deucey. You need back up on something like this. You need your GNC club.”

“GNC?” Caduceus tilted his head.

“Gender non conforming,” Molly supplied, “You know, people who get it. Gender’s dead but friendship is not.”

“Your NB buddies!” Jester grinned, her head pushing in between the two of them, duct tape stuck to her horns, catching her homemade earrings with the plastic gummy bears, “Wait...your NBuddies!”

Caduceus considered that, his ears flapping a little as he took the tape off for Jester. He liked the idea of being part of a club. Even more, he liked the idea of being understood. He’d been worried about that when he’d first moved, breaking away from the grove where things were fluid and constantly changing as nature itself and entering a place where there might be rules and expectations in place that made sense to everyone but him. Where he would have to explain himself and define himself with terms that weren’t his own.

But here he was, feeling safe in a very unsafe vehicle, with friends to gladly cheer him on as he threw open the windows of the self he’d made a home in and tried new things.

Caduceus folded the piece of tape over and over in his long fingers and smiled.

“So what is it that mystifies you, exactly?” Mollymauk twitched some scandalous lace as they moved deeper into the boutique. Apparently this is where he and Jester had been coming for ages, enough that the drow behind the counter had known their names and greeted them with high fives.

“I guess...the concept?” Caduceus held his tail so it wouldn’t knock anything over, some of the displays were elaborate and delicate looking and full of things that would probably vibrate loudly if they hit the floor and that would be embarrassing, “I thought the idea of sex was to wear nothing rather than something. Where in the whole...process does this stuff come in?”

Molly nodded, managing to listen intently while dragging Jester by the tail so she wouldn’t dive headfirst into the costumes part of the shop, “Anywhere really. They make stuff you can still fuck in, if efficiency is what you’re worried about. But I think the function of this kind of outfit is to make you feel pretty, y’know? Get you in the right headspace, get you feeling yourself, yeah? It doesn’t always need to be about sex.”

“Sometimes I just wear pretty lingerie under my clothes cos it puts me in a good mood!” Jester bounced on the balls of her feet, ducking behind racks to sneak sips of the milkshake she’d smuggled past the cashier, “Helps me feel more like me.”

“Oh,” Cad said softly, tilting his head to consider the silk and satin and lace around them in a different way, “That sounds nice, actually.”

“Which is why it’s important to choose things you really like,” Molly nodded encouragingly, taking a sip of Jester’s shake and dodging the punch she aimed at his shoulder, “It’s a treat for yourself, this kind of stuff. And, when it inevitably shortens Fjord’s shorts by a good few inches because you’re going to look utterly stunning, that’s a bonus.”

Caduceus turned pink under his fur, a smile playing on his lips, “You think he’d like me wearing this kind of thing?”

“If you love yourself in it, Caddy, he will,” Jester beamed confidently.

“So...what’s catching your eye?” Molly prompted, seeing the excitement in his bright purple eyes, “They’ve got a good size range here, gaps for tails. Anything you like, they’ll have it to fit you.”

Caduceus looked around, ears lifting and whiskers twitching with interest. Anything he liked. No need to wonder if they would have things made to fit his tall, awkward body, no need to feel the pinching anxiety he’d grown too familiar with in clothing shops. A place where he could fit. And the only purpose was to make him feel beautiful.

“I like...green. And I like flowers.”

Molly and Jester shared that look again, the look of remembering when they’d had that moment of realisation too, when they’d discovered the world had space for them as they were. A look of delight at seeing it happen for their friend too and knowing they’d had a hand in it.

“Let’s get to work then,” Molly grinned.

Caduceus still had a little more time before Fjord came back from the gym. They’d checked and double checked the sizes on everything but Mollymauk still advised trying them on to make sure he was happy with them. And honestly, Cad’s excitement meant he didn’t want to wait.

So he stood in front of the full length mirror, after clearing away the clothes that were draped over it, with his hair gathered up in a thick bun at the nape of his neck, wearing little beyond the dull gold light of the sunset coming in through the windows. He’d bought three sets at the store and a few bits of jewellery to go through his piercings, actually a rather modest haul compared to what Molly and Jester bought for themselves but he was just starting out, after all.

There was one in green silk with garters and lace panels. There was a bodysuit made of mostly straps in a mossy blue colour that reminded him of water and looked pretty against his fur. But he quickly decided his favourite. The main material was sheer, meant to look like it wasn’t there at all, so the effect was that he’d laid a number of beautiful, intricately embroidered flowers across his body, teasingly concealing the barest amount.

That one he couldn’t quite bear to take off, even after he saw it fit him perfectly. Caduceus kept turning this way and that, grinning widely, seeing how it looked from different angles, touching the fabric, feeling how the stitches rose and fell under his fingertips. He looked like a dryad, wearing only sunlight and flowers, glowing from the inside out with an ethereal, untouchable kind of beauty.

And he liked it. He liked it a lot.

Caduceus had always felt mostly at home with how he expressed himself. He’d had eighty years to decide who he was and to know it was okay, that the Wildmother would always accept him and some individuals would not and that was outside of his control. Dysphoria was a word he’d learned the meaning of only after he’d moved to the city.

But this was the first time he’d been able to understand why Fjord looked at him the way he did, why he wanted him. Those dark nights when he’d lain awake with his head on his boyfriend’s chest and listened to the heart that was promised to him and wondered why, of all the people in the world, Fjord’s body stirred for him, those nights felt far away right now. Because he could see it for himself now. There was a connection in his mind, clear as day, that had been dark before.

He was beautiful. He was desirable. And this was good to know.

Caduceus mustn’t have heard the front door open, more in his head and in the mirror than in their bedroom. He mustn’t have heard Fjord throwing his bag down in the hall, his heavy footfalls across the old, creaking wood.

All Cad heard was the bedroom door starting to swing and his boyfriend’s call of, “I’m home, love, just going to showe-oh.”

Cad turned quickly, the magic broken, suddenly only able to think about the fact that he was wearing ridiculous lingerie with absolutely no warning, no rose petals or candles or glasses of champagne to try and pretend this was a deliberate surprise, “Fjord! Sorry, I...I was just…”

He faltered for words but couldn’t find any. Though it seemed Fjord was having the same difficulty. He was in his gym clothes, shirt still sticking to his chest and hair pushed back from his damp forehead with a simple band. And his jaw was on the floor. And his eyes...

“Um...Molly and Jester took me shopping today?” Cad explained, feeling heat rise to the surface of his skin for a different reason, “I thought I’d try something new.”

Fjord swallowed hard, his eyes wide and darting, unable to decide which part of Caduceus they wanted to stare at most, “Yeah? You...you look...I mean, god, Cad…”

Cad’s smile was back, flickering into life, “I look pretty, don’t I?”

Fjord gave a soft laugh, his eyes practically flooding over, “Pretty? Cad, there aren’t even words, love.”

Caduceus’ ears flapped and his tail curled in the air. He liked that. He liked the idea of things that could be said without words.

“Can I?” Fjord stepped forward, muscles coiled and ready, body telegraphing his need as clearly as a hunting animal.

“Oh please,” Cad breathed, “Fjord, please.”

It was well and truly night by the time they were done and Caduceus was pleased to learn he could feel just as beautiful once the lingerie had been eagerly pulled away. It was like a light had been switched on somewhere inside him and on it would stay.

He slept contentedly, easily, head resting on Fjord’s chest. His braid was undone, hair settling over his shoulders in waves made wild by his boyfriend’s fingers passing through it again and again. His lips were swollen pleasantly and flushed, his body would be full of well earned aches in the morning.

He was the most beautiful thing Fjord had ever seen.

He was ready for sleep himself, more than ready, but before he settled down to let himself drift away in his boyfriend’s arms, the only way he could ever really sleep completely peacefully, he had something to do. He pulled his phone out, fortunately within reach because his shorts had ended up hanging off the bedside lamp. Just a quick text, sent to two of his friends- Little Blue and Peacock according to his contact list.

thank you. seriously guys THANK. YOU.

And if Molly and Jester hadn’t been busy with their own partners, their own purchases, their own bliss, they would have seen it and grinned that grin again.

But there would be time in the morning.

[vexing-imogen]

hide your face (so the world will never find you)

Masquerade! Paper faces on parade Masquerade!

They’re the guests of honor tonight.

Fjord guesses that’s what’s supposed to happen when you’ve saved the world about half a dozen times and counting. It is a bit surreal though. Looking down at the sea of people crowding the Lavish Chateau and knowing they’re there for you, because of you.

He hasn’t joined the party yet, choosing instead to watch the revelry below from one of Jester’s childhood hiding places. He observes the masquerade through a simple face mask; a deep forest green, dappled with lighter greens, decorated with kelp and colorful sea glass, and held in place with a piece of the red cord he’s carried with him since his time on the Tide’s Breath. Jester had insisted that they all keep their masks and costumes a secret until the party, so Fjord makes a game out of searching the crowd for his friends.

Nott (Veth he has to remind himself. Not Nott anymore. Veth) er, Veth is easy enough to spot, leading Yeza around the buffet table. She’s wearing a pretty yellow dress, embroidered with delicate flowers. Her dark hair is braided into an elaborate updo, dark eyes sparkling with excitement above her broken porcelain mask.

He picks Caduceus out next, his firbolg form towering over most of the guests, but especially the white-haired gnome he’s conversing with. The beetle mask he’s wearing should be creepy as fuck, but his soft, floppy ears and long waterfall of hair soften the edges and make him look only mildly disconcerting.

Yasha would be hard to miss in a crowd, even without the large white wings that sprout from her shoulders. Her dress is midnight blue, embroidered with silver thread in patterns reminiscent of a lightning strike. Fjord thinks her white avian mask might be an eagle of some kind, but it’s hard to tell with her head ducked as it is, eyes on her dance partner.

Her dance partner being Beau. Beau, who Fjord wouldn’t recognize if he didn’t already know what her mask looked like. They’d gone shopping for masks together (Jester had pouted for hours when she found out), and he’d been the one to find the elaborate owl mask that looked a little too much like Professor Thaddeus. She’s dressed in a charcoal grey suit trimmed with blue. It has sleeves. Beauregard Lionett is willingly wearing sleeves and dancing and isn’t trying to start a brawl with the goliath from Vox Machina. He’s so proud he could cry.

It takes him a while to find Caleb. He’s sequestered himself in a dark corner (another one of Jester’s favored hiding spots), like Fjord, keeping himself separate from all of the attention and praise that none of them are quite sure they deserve. His cat mask is pushed up so he can better focus on his conversation partner. Essek, Fjord realizes with no small amount of shock. They’d invited him of course, at a banquet in Rosohna celebrating the end of the war, but none of them had expected him to actually show, Caleb especially.

Fjord searches the room for Jester fruitlessly. She isn’t by the stage, where a family of gnomes called the Shorthalt Seven play song after song. She isn’t sitting down with Allura Vysoren and her wife, Kima, who have abandoned their masks (a golden swan and a silver dragon, respectively) in favor of wine and ale. Nor is she at her mother’s side as Marion flirts with both Lord and Lady de Rolo. The Lady’s bronze dragon mask does little to muffle her laughter as her husband flushes a brilliant crimson behind a raven. She isn’t pestering Taryon Darrington, who is wearing a garish mask that can only be his construct, Doty. (the construct is wearing a mask, too. A truly horrifying thing that Fjord can only guess is supposed to be a likeness of Taryon.) In all of the music, laughter, dancing, drinking, mischief, and general chaos of the evening, Jester is nowhere to be found.

“Looking for someone?”

Fjord nearly cracks his head on a low beam jumping at the soft voice beside him. He’s halfway to summoning the Star Razor before he thinks that it might not be the best idea to run a random party guest through with a sword. He does spin towards the voice, and comes face to face with Keyleth of the Air Ashari and Vox Machina. The Voice of the Tempest. The powerful as fuck archdruid that could level the Chateau if she really wanted to.

Her rabbit mask is pushed up between her antlers, so he can see her wince and blush. “Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He waves off her apologies. “It’s fine, really,” he says, taking a breath and willing his heart to stop racing. “I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here, that’s all.”

Keyleth nods, her mask slipping a little with the movement. “I get it,” she says. “Don’t get me wrong, I love getting dressed up, and the free drinks are always a plus, but the whole socializing part of events like these have never been my forte.”

“It’s not the socializing I mind,” he says, searching for the right words. “It’s being the center of attention that bothers me, I suppose. Especially when-”

“You feel like you don’t deserve any of it, and you’re terrified that everyone will realize all at once how much of a fuck-up you truly are and throw you out on your ass?” Keyleth finishes, giving him a wry grin.

Fjord laughs. “Um, yes. To all of that.”

“Unfortunately, that feeling never really goes away,” she says, shrugging. “Sorry.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Having friends helps,” she says eventually. “Getting to see the positive impact of something that you did? That helps, too.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I think it also helps knowing that you aren’t alone in what you’re feeling.”

Keyleth grins. “Don’t mention it. Now, did you need help finding someone?” Her fingertips spark with magic as she wiggles them at him. “I probably have a spell that can help.”

Fjord shakes his head. “Thank you, but sometimes it’s just nice to sit back and watch the crowd.”

She likely sees through the lie, but she doesn’t push it. “Okay,” she says awkwardly. “Well, I should probably get back before my friends send a search party after me. They can get kind of paranoid sometimes.”

He nods. “It was nice talking with you, Miss Keyleth.”

He’s turning back to search for Jester when Keyleth calls his name. He turns back to her, about halfway down the stairs, an unreadable expression on her face. “Yes?”

“One last piece of advice?” He nods. She takes a deep breath. “Don’t wait until it’s too late to tell someone how you really feel about them. It works out for some,” she adds, eyes darting to Lord and Lady de Rolo, now dancing close, lost to everyone else but each other. “But, the more time you get with someone you love, the better.”

He swallows past the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

What he doesn’t say is that he was already almost too late. They’d lost Jester during one of their recent battles. She’d gone down and Caduceus was too far away, too focused on keeping Caleb and Beau alive. Fjord and Yasha’s meager healing abilities hadn’t been enough, and, for twelve agonizing hours, Jester was lost to them. Cad was able to bring her back with Beau and Nott’s help. Fjord’s too. He’ll be damned if he can remember everything he said, but he knows he’d whispered his love to her, for only her to hear.

Keyleth is long gone when Jester’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Fjo-ord, where are you? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. The party got too stuffy, so I went to my momma’s balcony for some fresh-”

He chuckles as her message cuts off. “Message received, loud and clear. Stay where you are, Jessie, I’ll be right up.”

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

Fjord finds Jester right where she said she’d be; in her mother’s room, out on the balcony, staring up at the night sky, the ocean breeze gently ruffling her hair. He stops to examine the mask that she’s left on the table before going out to join her. It’s a full face mask, styled after old theatre masks. One side laughing, one side crying; comedy and tragedy in one. The laughing side is a deep emerald green, the crying a jewel-bright pink, all accented with gold.

As he sets the mask aside and moves to join her on the balcony, he sees that the colors perfectly match her dress. The sleeveless bodice is patterned with harlequin diamonds, green, pink, and gold. Her skirt flares out, layer upon layer of emerald green tulle. She looks like a princess, and Fjord, in his simple mask and pirate costume, feels every inch a pauper.

The moment he sets foot on the balcony, she turns to him, and the smile she gives him wipes away any momentary insecurities.

“There you are, Fjord,” she teases. “It feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”

He grins, moves to lean against the railing. “Please accept my deepest apologies,” he says. “How ever can I make up for such a grievous error?”

Jester giggles. “Wellll, for starters, as cool as it is, you can take your mask off. This balcony has officially been declared a “no mask zone”.”

“Is that so?” he asks, smirking when she nods seriously. “I suppose I should comply, then. I wouldn’t want to break official rules.”

He unties his mask and hands it to Jester, watching as she runs her fingers over the sea glass. “This is really cool, Fjord,” she says, rubbing her thumb across a piece of kelp.

He blushes a bit, ducking his head. “Thanks, Jes. Yours is...gorgeous,” he says. “The wh-whole ensemble, really. I mean, gods, Jester, there’s rarely a day you don’t take my breath away, but tonight...gods, tonight...”

Her eyes are wide when he finally dares to look up at her, mouth hanging open just a little, a purple flush coloring her cheeks and chest. “Fjord...” She laughs a little, breathless. “Fjord, I...”

She’s speechless, searching for words, but she isn’t panicking. There are tears starting to gather at the corners of her eyes, but she’s smiling, and not the sad, pitying kind of smile she’d given Freddie de Rolo when he’d tried to kiss her, and she had to turn him down. He steps a little closer, gives her time to retreat if she wants. She doesn’t move.

He reaches up to stroke her cheek, and she leans into his touch, eyelashes fluttering. “We never did have that talk about the day you died,” he says softly. “Or about the day we brought you back.”

“No, we didn’t,” she says. She bites her lip. “What...what did you want to talk about?”

He has to close his eyes, can’t watch her face as he says what he’s about to say. “I don’t know what I would have done if we hadn’t been able to bring you back, Jester.” His head drops until his forehead meets hers. “Losing you would have destroyed all of us, certainly, but you can ask anyone, Jester. I was useless. It was only twelve hours, but it felt like a lifetime.”

She lets out a shaky breath that he can feel wash across his cheek. “And all of that stuff you said during the ritual?”

He pulls back just enough to look into her eyes. “I meant every word.”

Tears are flowing freely down her face. “Even the part where...”

“Especially the part where,” he says. “I’m in love with you, Jester Lavorre, and it shouldn’t have taken you dying for me to admit it.”

Her answering smile knocks all the breath from his lungs. Or maybe that’s her jumping to kiss him, throwing him off balance with her enthusiasm. He ends up on his back on the floor, Jester sprawled on top of him, both of them laughing hysterically.

“Oh gosh, Fjord,” Jester manages between giggles. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jes, don’t you worry.” He pushes himself to sitting, giving her the chance to climb off of him. Instead, she settles more fully in his lap. “And you don’t ever have to apologize for trying to kiss me, alright?”

She grins, leaning in to kiss him. “Good,” she says. “Because I’m going to want to kiss you a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. I’m talking an obscene amount of kissing here, Fjord.”

He laughs, winds an arm around her waist. “I think I can live with that, darlin’.”

She rests her forehead against his. “Will you say it again, Fjord?”

He kisses her again. “I love you, Jester.”

“I love you, too, Fjord.”

[dungeonsanddragonsfifthedition]

beaujes 36?

you’ve shown me what love can feel like.

Here’s the thing: in all the books, there’s this big fancy moment where the girl thinks “Oh,” and then, “Oh,” again, but slanted this time, because she’s realized that the rugged but kindhearted sailor or the nerdy but powerful tutor or the mysterious but gentle fey prince is the love of her life. And Jester’s always kind of expected that to happen eventually, because, well, she knows when people are hot, duh, and she knows when people are cool to be around, also duh, but.

Well. Here’s the other thing: Jester doesn’t really remember it happening with the person who she think she kind-of-sort-of-is-maybe-in-love with, and she asked Nott who was married how she knew that she was in love and Nott panicked about that and started asking Jester questions about who she had a crush on. And then she asked Yasha and Yasha just got sad, which is fair, because Jester can’t even imagine how much that sort of thing must hurt. And Caduceus doesn’t know anything about romance but the second she mentioned a crush he started stuttering and just left the room. And Fjord and Caleb are both, like, thirty and have been in relationships before, probably, especially Fjord, but Fjord isn’t super emotionally smart, and Caleb doesn’t really seem like a romantic, so.

Well. She’s really only got one option. And it is, unfortunately, the person she is maybe-in-love with. She tries to make it subtle, at least--they’re at their camp, but Yasha’s picking flowers and Cad and Fjord are Communing and Caleb and Nott are working on some new spell. And she asks, very quietly, and looking at the moon, “Beau. You’ve been in love before, right?”

“Um.” Beau says, “What do you...?”

“I mean, you kissed Reani and it was very romantic, and--”

“Jes, I’m... not in love with Reani. We were just having fun.” And Beau looks embarrassed. Very embarrassed. Quieter, softer, in that tone she reserves mostly for Jester, “But I--I have been in love, yeah,”

“How did you know?”

“I... didn’t. Not at first. I was... talkin’ about this with. Someone the other day. That it’s not a realization. It’s a... it’s a feeling, right? In your gut, or your heart, or wherever’s the most romantic part of the body. In your tits, maybe. Fuck if I know. But I just look at this person, and I’d looked at her plenty, before, and--you know it just gets sort of stuck in there. Like when--when you think about this person, there’s this stray thought, I love her, and then it just gets louder and louder, but it’s subtle.”

“A frog in boiling water,” Jester says, mirroring something Caleb said a few weeks ago.

“I fuckin’ hate that  metaphor, but. Yeah. It’s... it’s--”

“I’m in love with you,” Jester blurts, hand darting close to Beau’s face but stopping, nervous, shaking. “I’m super, duper in love with you, Beau, and--”

“Jes,” Beau says, blinks. Her eyes are so pretty, and so scary, right now, because what if she hates Jester, now. “Jes, did Nott--you shouldn’t feel obligated to--”

She retreats, a bit. Clasps her hand in the other hand.. “Obligated to what?”

“To. To love me back. It’s not like a book, where’s the--where the hot guy’s like, “I love you,” and suddenly the girl’s swooning, you don’t have to swoon--”

Holy shit, Jester thinks, and nearly squeals, but she has to help Beau, first, because, well, Beau’s gonna feel guilty for no reason, and that’s stupid and sad and all of those terrible things.

“i’m not swooning! I--I didn’t know if it was. Real or if it was anything and--” she says, “Beau, can I kiss you? I’ve kissed one other person and it wasn’t very good and I’d like to kiss you very badly, because you’re sort of famously very good at it, and I think you’re very beautiful and cool and strong and smart and so, so, so interesting, and--”

And Beau kisses her. Says, “Hah, sorry,” afterward, but it’s a good kiss, and it’s weird and warm technically not even with tongue, but--

“I love you so much, Beau, really, I’m not--”

Beau shushes her. “Caleb and Nott are getting up. I’m not giving Nott any satisfaction. Not yet. Because she’ll take credit.”

“Okay,” Jester pouts, “But. We have to tell everybody, eventually, because they’re going to think it’s super cool.”

“Mhm,” Beau says. “Yeah. I bet they will.”

And Beau holds her hand, very subtly, and oh. 

Oh. This is really, really nice.

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E62 (May 14, 2019)

The pre-roll summarizes last week’s episode well:

[id: A picture of a small pink toy house with sides that fold out and an oven that looks like just a great little sticker with a picture of something delicious cooking in the oven. Now I’m hungry. end id]

Fresh off their takeover of the Yee-haw Game Ranch, tonight’s guests are Laura Bailey and Ashley Johnson!

Brian’s camera angle has to be adjusted to accommodate his extra-floofy hair.

Announcements: In place of the Gif of the Week contest, there is now a Cosplay of the Week contest, and there will also be a cosplay gallery! Only individual cosplay photos will be considered for the Cosplay of the Week since there can only be one winner (group photos are fine for the gallery!). More info here. Art and cosplay submission has changed! Instead of e-mailing, you can now SUBMIT by visiting critrole.com/submit. Wyrmwood will be sponsoring both contests going forward.

Episode 62: Domestic Respite

Jester has cast Sending 38 times, making it her second-most-used spell after Cure Wounds.

It’s been roughly 3.5 months since Jester and Nott sent their letter to the Academy. Laura: “Oh no. That’s a long time that things could have happened behind the scenes.”

Dani, speaking for so many: “Ashley, you’re perfect, and I just want you on the show all the time.”

Jester likes having a roommate, and Laura thinks Beau also likes having one. "I think it’s a really nice partnership, that they get along really, really well.”

Yasha getting the balcony room was for a couple reasons: “sleeping under a roof like that is obviously a very new thing for Yasha” and also “from experience, from what she knows up until this point, is that she communes with her god outside”. She thinks he might be an “outside god”, but isn’t sure whether he comes indoors. Now I’m picturing a god with a doggy door.

Ashley was tempted by Caduceus’ space, but she didn’t want to steal his thunder. “I think there will be nights where Yasha will probably go in there to sleep at night.”

Laura: “I can paint you a hammock for the tree!”

Jester genuinely does want to make people happy, but “I think that desire comes from fear, probably, of disappointing people and of them not wanting to be around her. She grew up with expectations on her, and upon herself, maybe, that she put there. She equates that to being loved, and keeping that love.”

Brian asks about Laura’s inspiration for that idea, and Laura talks about how it wound up being a pretty natural evolution of the character once she started embodying her and fleshing her out a little more.

Yasha’s “very much struggling with the love that people give her, and so I think in terms of the house and everything, it’s obviously a weird thing.” Before Jester came in to decorate the room, Yasha wasn’t planning on putting anything in that room; it was going to be a bare-bones living space and nothing more. “It was just another moment of, this is a family, and they all care about each other, and Jester wanting to make Yasha happier, doing something nice, that was a beautiful little moment.” There’s some conflicting feelings. “I don’t know how long she’s going to last in that room.”

Laura points out that everyone in the group shares that feeling of not being deserving of affection. Ashley: “Do we all just feel that, secretly, and then put that in our characters?”

Laura has some ideas about decorating the other rooms that she doesn’t want to bring up in case they come up in-game. The only person she doesn’t have ideas for is Fjord, because he specifically asked her not to. She’s not sure what his deal is with the house. “He’s playing it very close to the chest.”

Blindspot’s been renewed for one more season. Ashley stares directly into the camera: “And then I’m home.”

They make a joke about a spinoff when Ashley’s character inevitably turns out to be the real villain on the show. Brian, staring directly into the camera: “And it shoots in Los Angeles.”

Yasha’s feelings of not being a full member of the M9 and often having to play catch-up (Ashley: “Not the condiment.”) is partially a reflection of Ashley’s feelings, but she thinks it’s something that may change given some time. “Obviously, everybody showing love towards each other is breaking down everybody in a good way.”

Jester originally just wanted to put a peephole in the wall “so she could spy on Fjord”. But then she told him, and things kind of spiraled from there in a way she hadn’t intended. Dani: “None of it was dirty... except for the initial idea.”

Lo, Henry is slain by the pineapple:

[id: Henry having a well-deserved snooze with a thoroughly mangled pineapple dog toy on top of him. end id]

Yasha’s getting more comfortable with sharing her past. “But a lot of that was sort of out of knowing that I have a little bit of a limited time at home. But I think it was at a point where we kind of had to discuss it. There’s still a lot that hasn’t been talked about, so that’s still the surface part of the story. It definitely has gotten to the point with them where she did feel comfortable confessing that with them. ‘Yeah, I’m a coward. Here’s my story.’”

Jester on the unintended information revealed in the letter to Astrid: “The thing is, I’m sure somebody like Astrid could figure it out, but most people know my mom as the Ruby of the Sea. It’s not like, come see Marion Lavorre! That’s not a name that’s out there.” Laura points out that it’s not even common knowledge that the Ruby has a daughter. “But it’s... not good. It can be traced. That was not the wisest decision, but I’m blaming that fully on Nott, because I didn’t know anything about Caleb’s backstory at the time.” All she knew at the time was that he potentially had an old girlfriend named Astrid.

Even the group’s reassurance hasn’t changed Yasha’s opinion that her actions were cowardly. Ashley doesn’t think she’ll ever change that opinion. “I think she realized in that moment how brave she was not. It’s like if you do something shitty in your life, you don’t ever really forget it.” Brian points out that there’s a difference between that and choosing to be defined by your worst moment, which Ashley agrees is closer to where Yasha is right now, and that aspect could change with time. “I think it did mean something that Beau said that [she’s a survivor]”, but there was still that aspect of ‘oh, you’re just saying that’.

On Nott expressing the possibility of leaving the M9 to stay with her family, Jester’s opinion? “Not good. But family’s important, too.” Yasha’s opinion is that, since she’s recovered her family and wants to be with them again, she should take advantage of that opportunity for a second chance. Laura and Ashley both can’t see a way forward right now where Nott doesn’t leave.

Laura: “Jester wouldn’t hold any animosity towards Caleb for the sins of the past. Unless it was something really bad. Like killing his parents or something.” Yasha also wouldn’t be likely to throw stones.

Fan Art of the Week: Jester painting the wildflowers. A long time is spent panning and zooming to hunt down the hidden dick.

Yasha following Fjord was mostly just because he’d been acting strange lately. “I just wanted to find out what he was up to.” Laura: “Sometimes you follow people.” Brian: “That’s how you find out what they’re up to.”

Laura, out of context: “It’s not a glory hole, it’s a peephole!”

Laura: “I feel like Jester’s been very forward with Fjord, and he hasn’t returned any of those flirtations... things that she thinks are flirtations. But there was definitely this friendly banter between them early on, and it drifted away when we were at sea. He hasn’t been talking to anybody about the turmoil he’s been going through or any of that stuff. I’m backing it off on those terms with her. Plus having the realization that all romances are not what you read in the book. She’s coming to these terms of, maybe I don’t understand how it is, and how I feel and how other people feel, I don’t know any of those things.”

Yes, Ashley knows that armor would improve her AC, but wearing armor would seriously limit Yasha’s abilities in battle. Laura: “You need a ring of AC, is what you need. But if we got it, you’d be fucked, because Caleb would just take it and keep it for himself.”

Laura, patting the Caleb plushie gently: “I give Liam a hard time, but honestly I do understand that Caleb’s a glass cannon and he needs the protection. I understand it,” Laura adds, patting the Caleb plushie with significantly greater force.

Yasha’s negative opinions of Xhorhas that she expressed earlier were partly colored by her experiences there, and partly to try to keep herself and the rest of the group away from her past. She also points out that if they encountered her tribe, they’d be within their rights to kill her, and she’d probably accept it.

Ashley’s excited at the prospect of Yasha going home because she’s looking forward to seeing what Matt will have done with the parts of Yasha’s backstory she wrote. Yasha’s opinion is considerably less positive. This is as far north as Yasha’s ever been. “I think she’ll continue to avoid it until they can’t anymore.”

Laura would be a lot more confident in the Gentleman being Jester’s dad if she’d thought to use Disguise Self in front of Marion. Jester, on the other hand, is entirely convinced that he’s her dad. She doesn’t fully think he’s intentionally ignoring her. She has a plan for what to do the next time they meet him.

Yasha’s favorite flower? “There’s still so many flowers that she hasn’t seen.” She may not have a favorite yet; she’s still learning what she likes.

Ashley calls out Brian for mispronouncing Yasha’s wife’s name: it’s definitely spelled and pronounced ‘Zuala’.

In a trust exercise, Ashley whips the Caleb plushie at Brian’s head.

Tune in shortly for the cast of Critical Role joining Joel Hodgson’s MST3K: The Podcomic!

[chaos-burst]

If I had money I would PAY you for more Widomauk content, because I am so fucking sad lately

[ ao3 ]

Caleb wonders if it’s possible to fall in love in retrospect.

Since Molly’s death Caleb has been thinking about him a lot. Even more so than when he was alive. Death does that to people, he ponders while he sits awake during night watches and draws patterns into the dirt. Death somehow shifts the presence of someone from outside of you into your head and makes them live there on and on and on.

Much like a violinist who only plays one song over and over.

Because Mollymauk can’t change in his mind, he’s destined to stay the same, just as Caleb knew him, without room to develop, to evolve.

And still.

Still, Caleb finds himself replaying their conversations almost obsessively in his mind. He’s able to remember most things, really, but sometimes, when it’s been too long, memories fade from him. And he doesn’t want Mollymauk’s memory to fade.

Mollymauk, who said he didn’t care about what they did before, only what kind of people they are now. Mollymauk, who needed to live by this code because his past never belonged to him. Mollymauk, who gave Caleb the tiniest smile when he said “That is enough for me, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”.

Stupid, ridiculous, endlessly brave Mollymauk Tealeaf.

Caleb feels an almost forgotten fluttering in his chest. Being in love is something he almost can’t remember.

Almost.

In hindsight, Caleb can’t say if he’s been in love before Mollymauk died. Maybe he just didn’t realize it. Maybe he got better at sorting out his feelings during the last months.

Today, the thoughts of Mollymauk are especially persistent. And it’s Jester’s fault. Her voice keeps repeating in his head, small and timid and unsure.

“I’ve been asking the Traveler to teach me this new spell. To bring Molly back to us.”

Caleb could see the surprise on Nott’s and Fjord’s faces. Beau on the other hand simply sat up straighter, leaned forward towards Jester and nodded encouragingly. That’s when Caleb knew that Beau is the same as him.

Replaying memories, still searching for solutions, still hoping, not letting go.

Not ever letting go. They’re both very good and not letting things go, Caleb thinks.

“I think I can do it now”, Jester said. “But I need his body and a pretty big diamond, guys. Like. Really big.”

So now they’re traveling towards the Glory Run Road again. And as if Yasha was able to feel what is going on, she joins them when they’re halfway there. Caleb can see her talk to Jester, tears glimmering in her eyes before she hugs Jester.

Caleb is sure that Yasha hasn’t hugged any of them first so far. But there they stand, holding each other tightly and Caleb can see Yasha’s lips move. He doesn’t need to hear the words to know what Yasha is saying over and over again.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Later, when they’re only a little more than a day’s ride away from Mollymauk’s grave, Beau sits down next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“You’ve been quiet”, she says.

Caleb shrugs. His mind hasn’t been quiet at all at the prospect of seeing Mollymauk again. It would have been so fitting, being in love with a dead man. The thought of being in love is still foreign in his mind. The last time he was in love, he was merely a teenager.

Now his heart stumbles at the thought of Mollymauk pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You know I am not much of a talker”, he says, wondering if he should just tell Beau.

“Except when it comes to books and cats”, Beau says and gives him a lopsided grin. Caleb manages a smile.

“Looks like we’ll be complete again tomorrow.”

Her voice is so quiet, Caleb almost can’t hear her.

Complete again.

Yes.

“I’m happy”, he finally rasps, the words foreign on his tongue. Happiness feels strange, like something very old and lost to him, and still very new. Maybe he’s learning how it works to be happy again.

Beau actually puts her head on his shoulder.

“Me too”, she says.

The words stumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“Do you think it is possible to be in love with a dead person?”

Beau’s head stays where it is but Caleb can feel Beau go still at his words. His heart is hammering in his chest as if it wants to escape. Breathing is suddenly very hard. Hearing the words out loud is still very different from just testing them in his mind.

“Yeah. Sure”, Beau answers. No hesitance. No judging.

When did Beauregard Lionett become one of the very best friends to him? Caleb can’t say. Just like he has no idea when he fell in love with a certain purple tiefling.

“I feel stupid”, Caleb rasps, wringing his hands and trying to control his breathing.

“It’s not stupid, Caleb. Isn’t it like… super normal that people only realize what they had when it’s gone? Or whatever? That’s what it was like for me anyway. That dumb fuck was the worst and then he pissed off and–you know? When he gets back I’ll hit him. Like. At least twice. And then I’mma hug the fuck out of him because I fucking... didn’t do that while he was still around.”

Caleb doesn’t want to hit Mollymauk. He wants to hug him. He wants him to smile. And in a very ashamed part of his brain is a wish for a kiss. Caleb probably doesn’t even know how to kiss anymore. Molly on the other hand–

He can feel heat rising to his cheeks and he clears his throat, hoping that Beau won’t notice.

“I don’t think I want to hit him”, he confesses and Beau snorts.

“Nah. Didn’t think so. Though I have to say, Caleb. If you start smooshing faces I’ll get the fuck out of there. No offense.”

Caleb coughs a little and Beau raises her head again.

Beau looks at him and Caleb actually manages to look back. Beau seems to consider something, then she opens her mouth and Caleb can see the embarrassment on her face.

“Pretty sure that asshole is like. The brother I was supposed to have, y’know? And I didn’t realize that before–before he died. For me. So. Yeah. Not stupid. And now I have to stop talking about my fucking feelings or I’ll vomit”, she says, her voice hoarse and her eyes definitely wet.

Then she gets up and ruffles his hair aggressively before stomping away.

Caleb doesn’t sleep much that night and he knows that Yasha and Beau are also awake. Yasha staring at the sky, Beau pretending to be asleep.

Still, they’re the first at Mollymauk’s grave where, surprisingly, a rather dirty and worn-out coat still floats in the wind. Caleb feels his breath catch in his throat because the whole grave is full of vibrant, colorful flowers. Caduceus doesn’t seem to be surprised by this and he smiles, apparently satisfied with his handiwork.

Yasha sinks to her knees and carefully touches the flowers while Beau grabs the coat and folds it up before ripping the stick out of the earth.

“Let’s do this”, she says, throws the stick aside and swallows heavily, while Jester slowly approaches the grave and pulls out the diamond.

Caleb can’t breathe.

He’ll be back. He will be alive and breathing and–

Even though he’s exhausted and tired and weak Caleb helps to dig up the corpse. No one speaks when they find the remains. After months, there is not much left that resembles Mollymauk and Caleb has a hard time looking at what’s left of the colorful person he knew.

Jester is crying the whole time while she carefully puts the diamond on what was once Mollymauk’s chest. There is no question if the person coming back will be Mollymauk or someone else.

Jester calls only for Molly’s soul. The soul that belongs in this body above any other soul. Yasha and Beau hold Jester’s hands and Caleb carefully places a hand on Jester’s shoulder while Fjord, Nott and Caduceus stand on either side of the corpse.

The diamond vanishes in a flash of light and Caleb feels nauseous as he watches the body reassemble itself like a morbid puzzle.

“That is quite fascinating to watch”, Caduceus mumbles somewhere to his left.

When the body is whole again, it’s completely naked.

There lies Mollymauk Tealeaf, naked, scarred and in a bed of wildflowers.

In a moment of silence and panic nothing happens before red eyes spring open and a deep breath gets sucked into intact lungs.

Caleb realizes that he’s been holding his breath as they all rush forward, except himself and Caduceus.

He needs to sit down. He needs to calm his breathing. He needs to touch Mollymauk to make sure that he’s really alive and unharmed and–

“Alright there, Mr Caleb? Breathe with me, you’re doing great. Breathe in, breathe out”, Caduceus’ soothing voice says in his ear and warm hands grab him as he stumbles.

The next few hours are a blur for Caleb.

He has no idea how to approach Mollymauk while all the others have no problem acting as if he never died in the first place. Beau doesn’t actually punch Mollymauk, but she does hug him and Caleb hears her suppress a sob when she stammers “You fucking asshole, don’t you dare–don’t–just don’t!”. Yasha doesn’t leave his side for even a second. Nott and Jester keep telling Molly all about what happened to them after he was gone (”We were pirates!” – “You were pirates without me!?”) and even Caduceus asks curious questions about being dead.

Fjord shows Molly his sword. Jester and Molly hold hands. Yasha shows him all the new flowers she collected.

All Caleb can do is sit there and stare at Mollymauk. Wonderfully alive Mollymauk.

His heart aches so much, it actually feels like a physical hurt and Caleb just wants it to stop. Being in love never felt like that, he’s sure of that. At one point, he finds Mollymauk staring back at him.

Caleb’s throat feels very dry while those red eyes rest on his face and a small, lopsided smile spreads on his face.

He might just faint then and there.

“Do you want to get out for a bit?”, a familiar voice says and Caleb flinches before he looks up into Mollymauk’s red eyes. He swallows and looks around in a panic before he finds Beau’s face and she nods her head to encourage him. Caleb gets up and feels dizzy as he follows Mollymauk out of the small Inn they settled in for the night.

“You looked like you wanted to be elsewhere”, Mollymauk says when the cold night-air brushes their hair out of their faces and Caleb sits down on one of the boxes standing outside the Inn. Mollymauk sits down next to him.

“So. I can add ‘eaten by worms’ to my resumé. Pretty impressive, huh?”

Caleb shuddered and snorts.

“I don’t remember it though. Pretty glad about that.”

Caleb doesn’t know what to say. There are many things he wants to say, but they would be uncalled for, inappropriate and terribly embarrassing.

“The new guy is great, he knows an awful lot about mushrooms”, Mollymauk continues and lets his legs swing back and forth as if testing them. See if they still work the same as before.

“Ja. He uh–he really likes mushrooms.”

Molly laughs.

“Don’t we all”, he says with a chuckle and then he’s quiet for a while, looking up at the sky. Caleb thinks about how Beau doesn’t consider his feelings stupid. They’re still there, buzzing under his skin, now that Mollymauk actually sits beside him. But what do you do about feelings like this? They seem to big for Caleb’s body, trying to spill out in any way they can.

When a warm hand reaches for his he almost chokes on his own spit.

“Hey Mr Caleb”, Mollymauk says and doesn’t look at him when he speaks. His eyes are still turned skyward. “I died. And it sucked. Like, a lot. I might just die again tomorrow.”

Caleb’s chest feels very tight at the thought. Molly’s fingers don’t let go of his hand and he thinks his heart might fly away into the night.

“Don’t. Don’t–Just. Be careful, ja?”

Mollymauk tilts his head back and finally turns to look at Caleb.

“I’ll try. Dying sucks, to be honest with you. What I meant though, is–you know. If I die again tomorrow I might as well make the most of my time, yeah?”

Caleb barely manages to look Mollymauk in the eyes.

If I die again tomorrow I might as well make the most of my time, yeah?

Caleb takes a deep breath and turns his hand upside down, so his fingers are able to intertwine themselves with Mollymauk’s.

“We all missed you”, he rasps. It’s all he can manage.

Mollymauk smiles, a small, earnest smile. Not his flashy grin, the one he puts on when he lies and jokes and postures. It reminds Caleb of the smile he saw after they discovered the truth about Mollymauk’s past. Or the lack of it.

“I’m pretty sure I missed you, too. Can’t remember, but. You know. It was good with you all. I’d like to experience more of that.”

Another silence follows, this one stretching out longer. Caleb wants to know what’s going on in Mollymauk’s head. He also wants to say everything that goes on in his mind.

I’m too broken to love anyone. I’m too broken to be loved. I hate myself so much, being in love is so hard. Touching is hard. Talking about caring and feelings is impossible. How can it feel so good to just hold someone’s hand?

“Beau told me she missed me. Said I’m like a brother to her”, Mollymauk says after a long while. “She’s still entirely unpleasant, but I would die again for her any day, you know. Having siblings like that is great, to be perfectly honest.”

So Beau did what Caleb cannot. Just said it. Even though she must be ashamed and even though she has a hard time talking about feelings, just like Caleb.

“Mr Caleb?”

“Ja?” Caleb clears his throat. “Mr Mollymauk?”

His own words make him smile.

He missed saying this.

“If I die again tomorrow I’d be really angry if I didn’t try to kiss you right now.”

Caleb doesn’t want Mollymauk to talk about dying anymore. But his whole body freezes when he hears the second part of Molly’s statement and when Molly gets up and suddenly stands in front of him, all he can do is look up at him helplessly, his cheeks burning and his heart hammering.

“So, Mr Caleb. Will you let a dead man steal a kiss?”

The grin Mollymauk shows him is the one he uses when he tries to hide his uncertainty. Caleb knows how to spot it. He replayed every single one of Molly’s expression in his mind so, so many times.

“No”, he whispers and his heart might just explode at the flash of hurt that flickers over Molly’s features, “but a living one would be–that would be–”

Molly blinks and the next thing Caleb knows he has a lap full of purple tiefling, hands in his hair and very warm lips pressed on his mouth. He gasps and almost falls off the box he sits on before his arms wrap around Mollymauk and he finally finds the sense to kiss him back.

No more dying, he thinks as he desperately buries his fingers in Mollymauk’s hair. No more dying.

Molly kisses him like a drowning man in need for air. He tries touching every part of Caleb he can get his hands on and Caleb finds himself panting into the kiss. It’s all so much. Which is only fitting, he thinks, since this is Mollymauk Tealeaf he’s kissing.

“Why, Mr Caleb”, Molly pants against his lips. “For kisses like that, I might just stay alive as long as I possibly can.”

Caleb pulls him down again.

“Deal”, he murmurs into the next kiss.

He supposes that he’ll just have to kiss Mollymauk Tealeaf every day for as long as possible.

[knightowl725]

Healing in a Graveyard, Ch. 3

Fandom: Critical Role

A continuation of my work for Fjorclay Week 2020′s modern au prompt that will likely continue past this week. How long will it be? Only the Wildmother knows.

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828932/chapters/57343630

Chapter Three: A Peaceful Goddess

It was later that night, after another warm meal with his friends, that Caduceus found Fjord on the patio.

“Good evening,” he said as he stepped outside.

“Hey Caduceus.”

Fjord was seated on the bench. There seemed to be an unspoken rule to leave the rocking chair be, plus it was too big for his comfort.

“I was just making some tea. Would you like some?”

Ah, dead people tea. Fjord was still...adjusting to the concept. But it really was good if you got past the psychological barriers. “Yes, thank you.”

A few moments later, tea and firbolg joined him. Caduceus settled into the rocking chair, gently rocking back and forth with his tail swishing about idly. He held his mug close to his chest as he stared out over The Grove.

“Hey, Caduceus?” Fjord asked.

“Yes, Mister Fjord?”

“Do you mind...You don’t have to answer, but I noticed you were outside by that large tree over there earlier. What were you doing?”

He glanced at the tree when Fjord pointed, then turned back to him. “I was talking to the Wildmother.”

“The Wildmother?”

He nodded dreamily. “The Wildmother is my family’s patron goddess. We have, for many generations, cared for this land in Her honor.”

“What is she a goddess of?” Fjord asked, looking at the gravestones.

“Nature, in all its forms,” he answered simply.

“Oh. That...makes sense,” he said. “I didn’t know you were religious.”

He smiled lazily at Fjord. “She’s always been a part of my life, another family member of sorts. I’ve devoted my life to Her. All of the Clays have, in their own ways. But I chose to stay here and honor Her this way.”

Fjord stared at him for a moment, then, almost laughing, said, “You speak so calmly of her. I’ve never heard people talk about a god like that. Usually it’s more reverent. Or fearful. Or...Jester.”

He chuckled. “The Wildmother is not about big ceremonies and hefty offerings. It’s about honoring Her through nature. Caring for it, nurturing it. Civilization and nature can coexist. As followers of the Wildmother, we work to remind the world of that.”

He gestured out towards the edge of the Grove, where one could just see the plethora of buildings and busy city that began the exact inch the Grove ended.

“She also watches over the seas,” Caduceus mused.

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

He nodded. They lingered in calm silence, Caduceus lost in Caduceus-esque thoughts, and Fjord wrestling with the confusing contradiction of a peaceful deity.

“Does she… All she asks you to do is manage The Blooming Grove?” he finally asked.

“Yes,” he said. “She asks all of Her followers to respect and care for nature, for the wildest parts of the world. To resist and destroy that which is unnatural in the darkest sense. To defend the wilds from civilization. The Blooming Grove is a special place to Her. It is our sacred duty to protect it.”

“Which is why you have so many plants around.”

He nodded. “You understand.”

“I don’t think I do,” Fjord confessed with an awkward laugh. “She doesn’t seem like the gods I’ve heard of.”

“She is, and She isn’t, I suppose,” Caduceus agreed. “But She suits me.”

“What does she...do for you?” Fjord asked. “Is that wrong to ask?”

Caduceus considered it. “I can’t say to your second question. But for the first… She provides guidance, support. She offers protection where She can, and cares for the natural world. She doesn’t speak to me the way the Traveler speaks to Jester - She is more traditional in that sense, but isn’t that enough? It is for me.”

“No, of course. It’s certainly enough,” Fjord said respectfully, though Caduceus was clearly not offended. “She seems to be a compassionate deity.”

“She is.”

~~

The next afternoon, on a warm Friday, Fjord took a break from studying to do a little research.

Caduceus's words about the Wildmother had stuck to him. Rather than the sweat-inducing dreams of being swallowed by a snake god-thing, he dreamt of warmth and calm. Like what he felt when he hit that specific point in meditation. And when he woke up, he thought of the Wildmother.

There was a vast theology section in the campus’s main library. He remembered when Jester razed the place trying to prove the Traveler was real to them, to no avail.

Standing at the top of the stairs, staring down the "Theology" sign, he wondered if he had to look for "Wildmother" or "The Wildmother".

Which felt like a stupid question, but here he was.

He eventually found mentions of her by searching the library database, pulling the relevant dusty books from their home on the shelves. He could use the Internet, but he wasn't interested in running into conspiracy theories or discussions about which god was best. His attempts at understanding the other deities he'd encountered had ended thusly, and he wasn't taking that risk.

To no surprise, Caduceus was spot on. The Wildmother was a nature goddess, presiding over land and sea. She was separated from the mortal planes with the other gods way back then and blah blah, not what he was looking for.

He found stories of key followers, as well as her connections to other deities. Apparently she was a lesbian goddess, partnered with the goddess of civilization. An opposites attract situation, he imagined, except he remembered what Caduceus had said about them coexisting. What better way to show their followers that the two could live side-by-side in peace than for the deities to find peace as a couple. Goddesses that led by example, it seemed.

He read on, making notes in a notebook he hadn’t quite used up last semester. His focus had narrowed in on the subject, and he read and skimmed and wrote and wondered with the kind of intense concentration he knew best from his time on the sea.

The Wildmother, named Melora, seemed gentle, but not without her bite. Like nature, like forests and the sea and wildlife itself. He recognized her simple, swirl symbol from the shape of Caduceus’s wooden earring. Her more complex symbols, wreath of plants and flowers around a spiral-topped staff made of wood, was also familiar. Where had he seen this?

His phone range. The sudden noise broke him from his focus and sent a chill down his spine. Why had he left the call ringtone on?

He checked the phone, seeing an unfamiliar number. His stomach dropped. There were half a dozen missed texts based on the icon at the top of the screen, too. Who? Maybe a wrong number or a telemarketer, but then why did he have a backlog of texts?

He took a deep breath, trying to quickly mimic his attempts at meditation. Then he swiped the screen. “Hello?”

"Ah, good, it's you," said a familiar, drawling voice. All of the tension left Fjord as he released his held breath. The voice grew distant for a moment as he called out, "It's Fjord everyone."

"Caduceus? Of course it's me. This is my number."

Caduceus returned to the phone as chatter rose in the background. "We were just a bit worried, and Beau and Yasha lost their phones in a pond this morning, so they've been in rice all day. The others' phones were dead, and you weren't answering Jester’s calls or texts."

"I didn't hear her call."

A sudden gasp in the background and a panicked, "Oh! I changed all his contacts to a silent ringtone the other day."

"Why would you do that?" Beau exclaimed.

"It was just a prank!"

"That's a weird prank," Nott said.

"I’m stepping away," Caduceus announced. After a moment, in a quieter setting, he said, "Sorry about that. Bit distracting in there."

"Caduceus, I don't mean to complain, but why did you call me? Is something wrong?"

"Well, you see, it got to dinner time and no one had seen you since meditation. And then the phone issues, and we were all fairly worried something had happened."

"What time--" Fjord pulled his phone from his face just long enough to glimpse the screen. "Oh shit! I'm sorry Caduceus. I'm getting my things and running right home. I just got caught up studying."

"Must be an interesting subject," Caduceus laughed. "Care to tell me about it on the way back?"

Caduceus seemed like the type of friend to have you text them when you got home, or who made sure you made it inside when he dropped you off before driving away. Fjord held his phone between his ear and shoulder so he was free to quickly pile up the books and leave them on the nearest return cart.

"I was actually reading about the Wildmother," he said, a little anxious even if it didn’t reach his voice. If he hadn't known Caduceus was alone, he probably wouldn't have had the courage to be honest. While he had learned Caduceus pulled no punches when he disapproved of something, he was also somehow one of the more accepting people he'd met. And everyone else liked to tease.

"Certainly an interesting subject, I’d say,” he said with a little laugh. “Learn anything noteworthy?”

“Just more of what you already shared, but it was interesting. There were some legends and histories of her followers. Big heroes, and such.”

He hummed on the other end. “We heard a few of those growing up, now and then. Not sure if they’re the same, or just old stories passed down in the family. My sister always liked the heroic ones. Haven’t talked to her lately. I should give her a call.”

“Is this the one running the outdoor gym, or the one studying Entomology in another city?”

“The one running the gym.”

“I’m sure she’d be happy to hear from you, either sister, really.”

“Well, I chat with Clarabelle nearly every day. She’s the one studying Entomology. She sends me pictures of bugs, and I send her pictures of my plants and recipes.”

Fjord made it outside the library and into the lit streets. He kept an eye out, paranoia peeking through. As he walked further from the center of campus and people grew fewer and far between, he was glad to have Caduceus on the phone.

“I would never have guessed she was your sister.”

A pause, then Caduceus’s throaty laugh. “Clarabelle and I are probably the most alike of us kids. My other siblings took more after my mother, I think.”

Fjord asked more about Caduceus’s eccentric family, drawn into the warm, fond tones of Caduceus’s voice. At moments, he could just pick out a vein of sadness, or perhaps loneliness, but that was always quickly smoothed over with a cheery comment.

And then, in what seemed to be an instant, he was on the dirt path to the Xhorhaus.

“Ah, there you are,” Caduceus said with a little wave. Fjord smiled and waved back instinctively.

“I’ll, uh, hang up now.”

When he walked up the porch steps, Caduceus greeted him with a warm, relieved smile and a simple, “Hello. Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Let’s get you inside.”

The Nein cheered at his entrance, lingering at the dining table around empty takeout containers.

“Yours is in the kitchen - just gotta heat it a bit,” Beau said. “We got you that thing you like.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll pay you back.”

She flapped a hand dismissively, and he stepped back into the kitchen with Caduceus to reheat their meals.

“You didn’t have to wait, Caduceus,” Fjord said.

“I didn’t really plan it. I just got distracted enjoying our conversation,” he confessed.

Fjord didn’t reply, mind trying to scramble up an appropriate response until it was too late to say anything. They took their food back to the table, sitting in the same spots opposite each other. They ate while the rest of the group continued chatting, until they, too, had finished, and everyone began to disperse.

He was starting to get the hang of the house. A few questions texted to Beau and observation taught him the basics. It seemed Caduceus cooked dinner most nights, with everyone else taking turns cleaning up, but never on Fridays. Fridays were takeout days, when the rest of the group split the cost of Caduceus’s meal as thanks for cooking throughout the week. Caduceus did his shopping each week in bulk, getting most of his ingredients from a local farmer’s market and his own plants. Receipts for what he purchased, sometimes just scraps of notes from less formal sellers, were left in a little hanging basket in the kitchen. Every month, Caleb sat down and divided up the total cost between everyone, which was paid out in the same timeframe as rent and utilities.

It was a simple system, one with a clear paper trail if anyone had questions. While it may not have worked with less bonded tenants, it worked smoothly for the Nein.

That night, Fjord tried to find some rest in sleep. After waking from a third nightmare, his racing mind wondered how much it might really cost to live here. He’d heard everyone talk about their costs before, and he’d seen Caleb working on the receipts over the week. With rent, and a rough idea of utilities and the house meals, well. It really wasn’t bad at all for a place so close to campus, with his own space that was clean and functioning. In fact, it was a great deal. Why hadn’t he taken it back when Beau and Jester did?

Ah, that’s right. Avantika had told him to move into The Champion house. Which cost more in base rent than his estimate of rent, utilities, and house meals at the Xhorhaus. And he had to share a room. And the house was shitty. If he could work part-time at minimum wage and manage to barely scrape by there, surely he could manage --

What was he thinking, wondering about living here? He had, what, one weekend left before he was supposed to go back. To make his final commitment, to beg for his job back, to be reunited permanently with The Champions. Two days before he had to say goodbye. Goodbye to a quiet, clean room. Goodbye to a short walk from campus. Goodbye to a beautiful, if a little eerie, alcove of nature around him, goodbye to that gorgeous tree, goodbye to morning meditation, goodbye to home-cooked meals that were actually good for him, goodbye to…

Nott wouldn’t snip at him for taking up the bathroom. Jester wouldn’t mess with his things. Frumpkin wouldn’t nap at his side while he studied. Beau and Yasha and Caleb would all be so far away again. And Caduceus…

Fjord had only known him a few days, but it felt much longer. The quiet firbolg had nurtured a deep respect and admiration in Fjord, seemingly without trying or noticing. Not much older than Fjord, Caduceus still seemed wise beyond his years. For the first time since Vandren, Fjord felt like he had someone to look to for guidance in a way his friends - well-meaning as they were - couldn’t really provide. Except Caduceus seemed more personally invested in Fjord’s well-being after five days than Vandren had after years.

He didn’t want to think about it. That was the point of The Champions. Not having to think. Fjord turned over and tried to somehow cram himself further into bed, as though that might force him to sleep.

He shouldn’t have let Beau drag him away.

[mollymaymaukme]

Mollymauk x Reader: From Beyond the Grave, Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

“Get back here!” A voice shouts behind you as you sprint down the alleyway. Bare feet slapping against the hardened dirt and bounding over obstacles. Your fingers holding up the brown and muddied hem of your dress in a white knuckled grip.

You hadn’t meant to steal from them. Well you had actually totally been trying to steal but you definitely would not have if you had known the owners. The object of conflict currently stuffed down your bodice, a handful of gold and silver jewelry.

It had been sitting on a velvet cloth on the ground while its owner stepped away to go help someone. He had been in the process of attaching it to his horns. But you see, the thing is, people who have those kind of flashy accessories are normally rich. Not a fucking carny who had an army of other carney's willing to chase you down with a variety of swords, knives and even fire. 

The aggravating thing was that even when you scrambled up a wall and onto a rooftop they could still follow you. Just as spry and nimble as you, and probably more practiced. A ball of fire comes hurtling over your shoulder and you duck to avoid it.

The motion makes you slip and you feel a stray clay shingle slice into your foot as you let out a yelp. Barely managing to tuck into a ball when you lose your balance and roll from the roof onto the road.

Body aching and head spinning you claw your way to your feet and start running, only to hit a wall. A wall with beefy arms and giant hands that caged you in. As soon as it registered you’d been caught you begin to thrash about, desperately trying to break free of the iron grip.

Baring your teeth and snarling like the feral beast this cursed city saw you as. You looked the part to. Your dress muddied and torn from sleeping in the woods, ill fitting since it hadn’t been made for you but for someone a little shorter. Hair that is filled with twigs and leafs matted and untouched by a brush in your lifetime. Gangly limbs that spoke of lean times tipped with yellow nails that were both long and broken.

The woman holding you jerks you in a 180, hands on your upper arms and pinning them to your sides.

The purple tiefling, owner of the jewelry, comes running up to you both panting heavily. “Thanks Yasha” He shoots the woman a wink before turning to you with a disturbingly polite smile. “Now if you’d please return my belongings I would greatly appreciate it.”

Your only answer is the glob of spit you aim at his face.

He wipes it away with the back of his hand before his grin grows, making you shrink back into the womans hold. “Okay. That's fine. If you won’t hand them over I guess I'll just have to find them myself.”

You understand his words a second to late and he is plunging his hand down your bodice and fishing around for every last ring and bobble. There are no curses from you to him, only screeching and more thrashing. Just as he withdraws his hand triumphantly you get a well aimed kick in between his legs.

Finally wiping that stupid expression from his face as he falls to his knees with a hiss of pain. You immediately turn your head and bite into the woman's arm with as much force as your jaw can muster. She doesn't loosen her grip until you taste blood, giving you the chance to wriggle free. Immediately darting into the nearest alleyway and away from them.

You hear the voice of the red headed woman that had been shooting fire at you asking if she should follow but the tiefling is laughing strangely enough. “Nah, let her go. I got my shit back, it's all good.”

---

The sound of approaching voices breaks you away from the memory. At first you are upset that Caduceus interrupted the memory of when you first met Molly, looking back it was hilarious considering how you two would end up.

But then fear runs through you when you remember that Caduceus was gone. Possibly never coming back. So then you must question who was near?

Focusing on the material world around your body harder you discern three different voices. “Let us explore together.” The deep rumble of a man says a little ways off. If you could have held your breath in anticipation you might have, as is the steady inhale and exhale did not stutter. “There are so many flowers.” A small voice says in awe.

“Yes. Caduceus said he had been taking care of this garden for a very long time.” It was the gentle voice of a woman. Of a mother.

You listen as they make their way into the temple, coming out to explore the graves, before finally circling around behind the building. The running pitter patter of small feet is the loudest, accompanied by a small gasp and then the retreat of the same small steps. “Mom!” The child sounds terrified “Mom there is a body over there!”

“Stay back Nila, I’ll go look.” The man's voice calls as you hear a heavier set of steps coming towards you.

“Be careful Kitor” The gentle voice you could now identify as Nila spoke.

“By the gods. Asar was right. There is a human girl half buried.” You sense that the man, Kitor, kneels beside you. A hand hovering underneath your nostrils and over your slightly parted lips. “Nila, she is still breathing. . .”

You listen as Nila and the child come closer. “Caduceus never said anything about this.” Nila murmurs.

“Hello?” She is talking to you, you think, and when she receives no response you here her whistle. Like a bird, except not exactly mimicking the chirp of the birds that lived in the willow above you.

An actual bird responds and you listen in fascination as it seems the bird and Nila have a conversation. “It says that this is Caduceus’s special flower. That he is growing her for the Wildmother.” She pauses as another series of chirps are traded “And not to disturb her. She will wake up when it is time.”

“Odd things for a bird to know” The deep rumble of Kitor reminds you of Caduceus. But Kitor’s voice was a bit lower than his.

“Maybe it overheard things Caduceus had said?” Nila offers, still sounding confused.

“Or maybe that's what the Wildmother told it to say.” The small voice, who must be this Asar mentioned once earlier, said.

“Perhaps.” Kitor agrees “So what are we to do about her?”

“We will leave her be” Nila says matter of fact “This place is obviously her home before it was ours. So we shall be respectful and not disturb her.”

You are grateful that they are not going to rip you from the ground or try to suffocate you beneath it. . .but you also don’t want them to ignore you.

It had not taken long for you to miss the sound of Caduceus’s voice, or the far off sounds of him puttering about the graveyard and temple. You were lonely and craved the sound of people.

“Mom, the girl is crying. . .why is she crying?” Asar whispers.

“Maybe she is sad.” You hear footsteps come up right next to you before there are fingers brushing the tears off your cheeks. This only makes them flow harder as the action reminds you of Caduceus, who might never come back, your companion in this lonely existence. “Oh don’t cry flower girl.”

There is a cacophony of chirping from several birds in the willow branches. The woman pauses to listen before you feel a tear, not your own, fall against your cheek. “It is all going to be alright now flower girl. We will be your friends now.” She says with conviction, and you can hear the tears in her voice.

Then there is the feeling of lips against your forehead. She pats the dirt around you back onto where it might have shifted off you over time. Fingers brush your hair from your face as she whispers “Goodnight, Flower girl.” Before getting up and leading her family back to the temple. Once again you are reminded of a parent tucking their child into bed.

[saphirered]

Can We Go Yet

Here it is; another instalment  in the Eldritch Knight series and because I can’t keep to a word count it seems there’ll be another part. Enjoy 😘.

-

Essek swings his heavy cloak over his shoulders, connecting the clasp keeping it in place and rolls his eyes. He knew it was a bad idea letting his brother stay with him during his time in Rosohna instead of just dooming Verin to stay with their mother but when Verin showed up on his doorstep a week before he was expected claiming he had some extra days off and couldn’t do anything but dedicate them to some good old sibling bonding. Verin had showed up the night after he’d ask you out and the next day, today he’d be taking you out on your date. 

“Come on, brother. Let’s go out for some drinks, cause some mischief. Someone has to breathe some life into the Firmaments.” Verin clasps a hand over Essek’s shoulder interposing himself between Essek and his path to the door with a grin that said enough about the problems he intended to cause.

“I have other obligations for the day. Besides, you are perfectly capable of pushing the Firmaments into chaos by yourself. I would not wish to get in your way.” Essek tries to brush his brother off and manages to get around the taller drow, the door opening with a wave of his hand, letting the subtile hint show that he will not hesitate to make a fool of his brother in public should he try to stop Essek. 

“You and your obligations.” Verin rolls his eyes. “I could simply join-“ 

“No!” Essek may have spoken a bit quicker and intensely than he intended and he knew for sure he had when he sees the gleam in Verin’s eyes. It takes one to know one and that’s the look of a challenged Thelyss. 

“As you are so adamant. Fine. I will behave and I won’t stop you from going wherever you are.” Verin shrugs and Essek doesn’t know wether to be relieved his brother didn’t push further or scared because one thing’s for sure; he’s suspicious. Nevertheless, expression neutral and proper he bids his brother goodbye and leaves. Despite not being a devout follower of anything but his own practices he finds himself sending prayers to who or whatever is watching to be merciful and keep his brother’s antics from ruining today. Any day but today. 

Verin watches Essek depart staring him down before he closes the door. Quick as he is he rushes to a window looking around the corner and sees just the tiniest bit of his brother’s facade slip. Essek is relieved. He really shouldn’t be. Verin wouldn’t be a good and loving brother would he not cause his brother a generous level of embarrassment and trouble on his first day back home. From the top of the tower he sees Essek leave and once he’s sure Essek won’t be as alert he takes to snooping around his study. The usual arcane stuff, some paperwork from the Bastion and some notes, no a list. What are you planning Essek? He takes the list and accompanying notes and takes off to follow where Essek went.

The road leads him to a two-story mansion, a tree of green leaves growing out of the tower. Verin doesn’t think he’s ever seen a green tree in Rosohna. Ever. So it doesn’t come as a surprise that whoever would put such an ostentatious beacon on their roof would be affiliated with Essek. He does not, however see why Essek would willingly affiliate himself with them as he prefers not to draw attention. He watches as Essek knocks on the door. In a matter of seconds the door is opened, bell ringing, by a blue tiefling it seems who pulls him inside by the arm with a force and determination he hadn’t expected. The door is slammed closed behind them. Deeming it safe and trusting his skills Verin trails closer and finds a vantage point to spy on whoever these people are and begins to plot and plan what mischief he’ll cause. 

“Essek, Essek, Essek!” Jester bounces with excitement as the door slams closed behind him. The tiefling pulls him into the common area where Beau’s lounging on a couch giving him a nod of acknowledgement. Caleb’s seated in a chair bend over the table scribbling notes, undoubtedly amidst transcribing a new spell. The wizard gives him a look of pity at the tiefling hugging his arm and blabbering on about what fun he’s gonna have and how much you’re gonna like everything he does and how romantic he is for taking you on a date and giving him tips on how to be even more romantic until Fjord takes mercy upon him and pries the girl away from him allowing him some space to compose himself. 

Essek takes off his cloak revealing the clothes better suited for warmer weather when Yasha offers to take it while he waits for you. Gratefully he hands it to the woman who unceremoniously tosses it over the back of a chair, giving Beau a stern look who was on the brink of making some kind of remark. Jester is getting inpatient and rushes to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Are you done yet?!” She shouts up and half of the Nein wince at the sheer volume. The longer he waits the more nervous he gets and the more difficult it becomes to repress that feeling but he’ll wait patiently still. 

“Beauty takes time, dear Jester.” Your voice sounds from upstairs and the fine sound of your light steps hitting the floor approaching the stairs reach his ears. Jester getting the first view from her position gasps, fanning herself and this must have been the first time he’s seen the girl at los of words. 

And then you come into his view, little by little as you walk down the steps. Essek has trouble putting words to the vision as he much like Jester has lost all ability to speak in that moment. Divine. You look absolutely divine. The fine light fabrics fit in all the right places creating an elegant and complimenting silhouette while still being practical in its cut to allow you complete freedom of movement and not get in the way should a fight ever break out. He couldn’t see them but knows you wouldn’t go without some kind of weapon on your person but has no doubt a dagger or two and some throwing knives are hidden between the folds of the garment. Your hair is elegantly styled in the same practical way you usually have it but small flowers have been pinned and weaved in to bring even more to the ethereal vision you already are and when you look at him, eyes bright and a smile to match, he feels himself unable to breathe. 

Caduceus follows behind you, giving you a chance to walk down to Essek while he quickly clears the mess left in the wake of his work. He had claimed he used to do this with his siblings, finding new and creative ways to add flowers to their hair and weave them in by braiding and twisting, tying and simply pinning them in. It had brought him comfort he said, and with the knowledge of your date night he’d offered so you accepted happily. Your feet hit the ground floor and you look at the others, a quick inspection of the room to see they hadn’t been torturing Essek or hounding him for the details of your date you wait for Caduceus to join the others. 

“Thank you, Cad.” You give the firbolg a quick side hug as he passes to sit down next to Beau. He’s about to ruffle your hair but quickly decides against it as to not ruin his good work. You walk over to Essek with a smile, the space between you a little closer than he’d have allowed with the others and while normally you’d reach out for his hand you refrain because of the company. Essek notices your eyes fall to his hand and to your surprise he entwines your fingers with his, squeezing softly. Your smile brightens and his matches as you forget about the audience for just a moment.

“How do I look?” You flounce out the fabric letting gravity have its way with the feather light material taking half a step back to allow Essek better view of you. 

“Radiant. Like a divine being.” Essek breathes. Words have a difficult time formulating but he collects himself and veers away from the complete mind blank you’ve caused him. Not that he’s mad about it. It’s rather the opposite. It’s not even about the way you look, even though you had truly outdone yourself, he’d still thought you the most gorgeous person in the world in rags or sweaty training clothes. It’s about the confidence you radiate, the warmth like an embrace and the affection in your eyes. 

“Oh, such a shame. I thought you didn’t affiliate yourself with deities.” You jest with a chuckle as you step back to where you stood before. Beau makes a gagging sound and you send her a death glare over your shoulder that shuts her up and has Yasha cover the monk’s mouth with her hand to prevent any retaliation to leave her lips. 

“I better start now, then.” Essek whispers when you face him once more. He whispered for Beau’s sake and maybe even more so to stop Jester from gushing, the girl having already taken out her sketchbook and writing down everything you say and do for some reason. Then, you’re interrupted by the door to the study slamming open, Nott stepping out, a cloud of smoke dissipating from the room behind her and the smell that accompanies it just absolutely terrible that you reach up to cover your nose and subconsciously take another step closer into Essek’s side as if he can keep it at bay. 

“Momma’s got a little gift for you two before you depart.” She proudly holds up two vials of some kind of brown-is dark green liquid sloshing about and it seems that these, more likely the crafting of the contents within are definitely the cause of this smell. 

“What the hell is that?” You speak, slightly muffled trying to hold back the urge to gag. Even Essek is struggling at this point with the woman stepping closer and closer, doused in this rancid acidic chemical scent. 

“I’m glad you ask!” A gleam in her eye makes you not so glad. “These babies are some proper rhino sex potions. Or they should be and you two can test them out on your little date. Make momma proud.” The goblin grins widely teeth exposed. You watch a blush creep up Essek’s cheeks as Nott in uncertain terms explains exactly what it does and how it’s supposed to work. She also mentions they’re untested but it should be fine. Perfectly safe. Maybe Essek would have preferred just dealing with his brother instead of listening exactly how these rhino sex potions should affect the drinker. 

“You don’t bone on the first date, Nott!” Jester exclaims as if she knows best and Nott’s attention falls away from you and Essek turning to the tiefling instead. 

“We’re adventurers, Jessie! We do things a little differently.” Nott defends. 

“I mean, no. But yes, I’ve had sex on plenty of first dates.” Beau perks up siding with Nott if only to torture Essek further because she’s definitely loving the response she’s getting out of him, even though you’re comforting the man throughout it all. The argument continues, the rest of the Nein also getting into the mix of wether or not you should have sex on the first date weighing in all sorts of variables of your specific situation. 

“Let’s go while they’re bickering if you want to make it out alive.” You mutter under your breath, just loud enough to hear and Essek catches on looking between you and the Mighty Nein as you keep your eyes on them pretending you didn’t do or say anything. He decides to take your word for it and doesn’t even bother contemplating the consequences of not saying goodbye to them instead speaking the words to the spell and you’re whisked off to another place far far away from the Xhorhaus and eternal night of Rosohna. 

“Wait. Where did they go?” Yasha asks noticing the drow and their friend gone. The argument falls silent and eyes turn to the space where the two of you had been standing mere seconds before. 

“They left when you started talking about wether or not their prior outings counted and if they’ve ever slept together afterwards when they had some privacy.” Caleb doesn’t look up from his work and keeps transcribing. When he doesn’t indulge them in the continuation of their argument and it eventually ends he’s on the verge of finishing up his new spell. 

“You spoke with Essek yesterday before he left. Spill the beans Widogast.” Beau all but threatens. There’s a clearing of the throat midway up the stairs and while they first expected it to possibly be Dairon but the sound was too heavy and pitch different. 

“I think I can help with that.” A drow sharing a striking resemblance to Essek although more muscular and taller holds out some papers. The Nein is on guard immediately ready to attack. 

“I think we can be of use to each other.” Still wary it quickly becomes clear they do have a mutual goal and with the Nein’s ability to get into someone else’s business they had it covered. It took them exactly half a second to figure out what the list was; places in Nicodranas. Jester was already gushing on about them and ranking them in order of how romantic they could be. 

Essek had taken you to Nicodranas and it just so happens that the Mighty Nein has a friend with a teleportation circle there. Caleb can spare the spell slot so how couldn’t they go for a night exploring the city, say hi to Jester’s mom and Yeza and Luc and better get to know their new friend Verin. It would be their down time while you and Essek went on a date. Or at least that’s their excuse because it’s pretty clear they just need to spy and snoop. 

[bloodyshadow1]

you know I’ve seen a few people saying that Beau flirting with Yasha is disgusting because Ashley and Yasha said that Yasha wasn’t looking for a romantic relationship and that if Beau was a man that her actions wouldn’t be okay.  While it is valid for people to feel this way it doesn’t stop it from being dumb for a number of reasons. 

  * And just so anyone knows, I’m not trying to say people can’t feel awkward or not like watching the two characters interact because it makes them feel uncomfortable, I’m really not, I’m just saying that you being uncomfortable because you’re projecting yourself into a character or a scenario isn’t the same thing as what is happening on the screen.

1. If Beau was a man that people would constantly be calling “him” out on his behavior.  This is false.  Scanlan Shorthalt, a man gnome bard played by the very talented Sam Rigel, hit on almost everything alive, including teammates that told him they weren’t interested in him and rarely got called out for it.  Scanlan did so far more frequently than Beau did and in far more perverse ways. Yes, Scanlan could be charming and funny, and yes he underwent character development causing him to apologize for his behavior to Pike who was the focus of ‘affection’, but the apology was also after 58 episodes and discovering he had a daughter who tried to kill him because of his slutty ways left her mother with a bastard child.  Look, I like Scanlan, not necessarily romantically with anyone, but I like him all the same and Sam plays him well.  But it doesn’t change the fact that his perverse nature wasn’t called out on and at times it was even celebrated by the fans and cast members.  It’s pretty damn hypocritical to condemn Beau’s behavior that it little more than flirting than Scanlan who has done far worse.  (Now I’m sure there are people who dislike Beau’s behavior along with Scanlan’s, That’s fine for you, and I’m sorry that you’re uncomfortable with both characters.  However, that doesn’t change the fact that on a whole no one seemed all to bothered by Scanlan, a man’s behavior, compared to Beau, a woman who has expressed romantic interest in other women.)

  2. Ashley as herself on Talk Machina and as Yasha in game has said that she wasn’t looking for a romantic relationship.  I’m not disputing or denying that, but what I am arguing against is that the fandom seems to put Ashley and her characters on this sort of purity pedestal, I saw it with Pike and I can see it with how the fandom treats Yasha.  Not looking for a romantic relationship doesn’t mean they are celibate or not enjoying people flirting with them.  (This isn’t me saying that all women want to be flirted with all the time, but some people do enjoy being flirted with, some people go to bars dressed to the nines and just lavish in the attention because they had a bad day, they had an argument with someone, or maybe they just do like the attention, it’s fine and it’s normal.)  Yasha says that she isn’t looking for a relationship right now but that doesn’t mean she isn’t looking for something purely physical with no feelings involved.  I’m not saying that this is the case for the character. I’m just saying that not looking for a romantic relationship means just that, that Yasha isn’t looking for a romantic partner or partners. And it certainly doesn’t mean ‘gross lesbian stay away from me.’ 

  3. Not saying no doesn’t mean consenting to saying yes, and just because Yasha hasn’t told Beau to stop doesn’t make it okay. I’m not going to argue about this since I believe this. And when I see one person constantly hitting on another in tv shows and movies and the other person is clearly uncomfortable despite not vocally declining or expressing disinterest it bugs the crap out of me.  It’s just a bad scenario and is used too much “romantic” scenes where it is played up to be romantic when it is really just disturbing.  That being said, there is a huge difference between shows like Critical Role and other forms of media. Other forms of media have writers who are writing plots and for characters on how to act, they are the ones who say that this is okay or how a story goes.  Critical Role is a live show about a group of friends playing dnd and roleplaying their characters in real time.  Ashley and Marisha have known each other for several years and have been friends for just as long it seems.  I’m not going to speculate on their relationship, but I have to believe that if Ashley was uncomfortable with Beau flirting with Yasha she would have told Marisha to cut it out, or if she was uncomfortable with that to at least tell someone else in the group to talk to Marisha about it in private without naming names.  I have to believe that if either of them or any member of the cast were really uncomfortable by the way another member was acting that they would be willing to talk about it.

  4. The way Beau acted towards Yasha in the Bath was gross and uncomfortable. I’m not gonna deny that even as a Beauyasha shipper that this scene could be uncomfortable, I know that if it was two other characters that I didn’t ship I wouldn’t be on board as I am.  This is also what I think of the only time Beau could actually be considered a perv, but I still don’t really see what the big deal is personally.  Both Beau and Yasha are two adult women who consented to be in communal bath with each other.  Additionally, they were both doing the same thing, checking out their companions in the baths as they get out and were basically having a game of chicken to get a look at the other.  And while Beau focuses on Yasha it is still just the same action.  If the scene makes you uncomfortable I’m sorry, but it doesn’t make Beau a perv than it does Yasha.

5. Beau flirts with Yasha all the time relentlessly.  Look as a Beauyasha shipper I got to tell you, that is just another outright false statement even though it would provide shipping fodder for me.   I’m not going to pretend that Beau doesn’t flirt with Yasha, but it’s far less than what people actually believe to be true, most of it is just how the fandom embellishes things and how the other members of the cast interpret the relationship between the 2.  Ashely and Yasha have only been in 6 out of 15 episodes, that’s barely more than a third, Beau has barely flirted with the barbarian compared to how much people think she does. 

In episode 1, Beau agrees to give up her stick once Yasha says that she’ll carry Beau to her seat, then Beau wingmans for Jester when she overhears Yasha say the Tiefling is adorable.  She is on Yasha’s should so she isn’t spying on her or anything creepy, she literally overheard it unintentionally.  After Yasha says she isn’t looking for a relationship then Beau asks if Yasha can hold her through the show and relents after Yasha says it costs 5 gold.  Look this doesn’t have to be seen as romantic, it just looks like Beau is a thirsty lesbian and wants to flirt with the gorgeous mountain of muscle that Yasha is.  Then zombies and Yasha leaves.  That was all their interactions other than a small bit in the tavern and a part where Beau goes, “Yashaaaa,” in what could be considered flirty. 

We don’t see Yasha until Episode 4, and while Beau definitely highlights her attraction to Yasha it’s still not that much.  There’s the bit where she puts money on Yasha thinking that they’re going to arm-wrestle, (which despite it showing Beau’s attraction to Yasha it’s also a safe bet seeing as Yasha is a barbarian and despite being a Half-Orc Fjord has barely more than average strength).  There is also a small bit after that when Beau comments that they should play Boulder Parchment Shears and Yasha is the one who flirts with Beau calling it a kid’s game and that she’ll show Beau a better version.  That is Yasha flirting with Beau, not Beau flirting with Yasha.  Then near the end of the episode Beau could be seen as jealous when Yasha says she can’t travel with them quickly listing off member of the carnival that Yasha might be beholden to, but it could also be seen as someone just being curious about a party members backstory who keeps leaving seeing as Nott chimes in and tells Beau to leave it to the detectives and does the exact same thing.  Speaking of which, Nott continues trying to find out about Yasha’s backstory and even gives her flowers this episode, maybe to make sure the giant woman doesn’t hurt her but it could be seen as just as much flirting as Beau did towards Yasha. 

Then we don’t see Yasha until Episode 9, which leads up to the bath situation that I already discussed and I’m pretty sure that’s it.

Then episode 10 comes since Ashely was able to stay for another episode and to my knowledge Beau doesn’t flirt with Yasha.  She shows some attraction to her with wanting to stand on her side brotraying Fjord in the process and marveling about her, but she doesn’t perv on Yasha or come close it. 

Episode 11 Yasha is briefly in the beginning of the episode played by Matt but she mostly just leaves.

Then in episode 14 comes and Yasha is back again.  And despite this being seen as a big Beauyasha episode for shippers and anti-shippers, Beau doesn’t really talk with Yasha that much, much less flirt with her.  Jester is the one who asked Yasha if she was attracted to someone and despite Yasha saying she did and Beau being attracted to Yasha she doesn’t say anything. Caleb is the one who seems to play matchmaker between the two trying to convince Yasha to buy things for Beau and trying to give Yasha the credit for buying the throwing stars.  Yasha goes out of her way to ask for the throwing stars for Beau, and Beau/Marisha seem to be happy that Yasha is trying to shop on her behalf but again Caleb is the one who pushes the relationship between them.  Then when they’re on the boats illuminated by Caleb’s dancing lights and Marisha/Beau comments on it being romantic he’s the one who serenades her with kiss the girl in regards to Yasha.  I’m not sure if it was Marisha who said it and Liam was singing to her as a player, or if it was Beau being Serenaded by Caleb regarding Yasha, but again, it wasn’t Beau who forced the situation, not Beau flirting with Yasha. 

Episode 15 is the newest episode and there’s Beau comment about always being a fan of going down, an innuendo that is mostly favored by Sapphic women.  Yes Marisha is looking at Ashley and Ashley nods in acknowledgement but it doesn’t mean that it was Beau specifically aiming it at Yasha, and while I prefer to think of it as Beau saying it in regards to Yasha, it could just be Beau making the comment out loud to the party, most lesbians I know can’t resist making innuendos about going down either, not always flirting, sometimes just making a pun or turning a phrase.  After that it’s the other cast members who bring up their ship name Beauyasha and Yashagard when they get the same initiative and are able to flank the Cube, but that’s not Beau flirting with Yasha or Yasha flirting with Beau. 

Now this is an extremely long rant so I’m gonna finish up here.  While I’m sure there are moments that I’ve missed that have been exaggerated by the fandom between Beau and Yasha, but that’s just it, the fandom taking it to literally not the character being out of control.  Again, I’m sorry if watching Beau flirt with Yasha makes you uncomfortable, I’m not going to say you aren’t valid in feeling so, maybe these few moments that are canon do make your genuinely uncomfortable, that’s fine and I will respect that.  However, there is also a chance that it’s you projecting more and making Beau’s behavior out to be worse than it is, maybe it’s because of how the fandom acts or how the other cast members do, but I just urge you to wonder if it’s canon Beau’s behavior or just your perception of Beau that makes you uncomfortable.  

[moiraineswife]

Family Lies - The Locket Part 2 - A Mollymauk Fic

Part 2 of The Locket series! Thank you to @9thlevelcounterspell for holding my hand and pompoms through this endeavour to cobble something together. 

Click here for Part 1! 

Title: Chapter 2: The Locket 

Fic Summary: Molly has no memories of his past before he woke up at the side of the road, half-dead, and was taken in by the carnival that became his family.The only connection he has to who he was before is a locket given to him by Yasha. 

Now travelling with his new, strange group, he begins to understand who he was before, and is forced to face the ghosts that emerge from the locket he opened with unthinking curiosity.

Mollymauk backstory/character study/exploration of the new team dynamic. Something in here for everyone. And shit loads of angst. Because I'm me.

Chapter Summary: The new family that's blossoming around Molly starts to discuss their old family. Mostly team fluff and bonding, with a little bit of backstory speculation thrown in because why not? 

Teaser: It didn’t take them long to get onto the subject of their families. It was inevitable, really. 

They were six, occasionally seven, whenever Yasha drifted back to join them, travellers in a wagon with a single horse which was, miraculously, still alive. There were only so many times they could listen to jester half-shriek, half-sing, without a single hit note anywhere to be found, the same sailor’s songs Fjord had taught her before the desperation to avoid yet another rendition of it drove them all into small talk. 

Link: AO3 

It didn’t take them long to get onto the subject of their families.

It was inevitable, really. They were six, occasionally seven, whenever Yasha drifted back to join them, travellers in a wagon with a single horse which was, miraculously, still alive. There were only so many times they could listen to jester half-shriek, half-sing, without a single hit note anywhere to be found, the same sailor’s songs Fjord had taught her before the desperation to avoid yet another rendition of it drove them all into small talk.

Molly was taking his turn lounging in the back of the wagon with Jester, his head resting idly in her lap, allowing her to comb her fingers through it and braid it. This inevitably meant it getting knotted so badly Beau had offered to cut it off with a dagger to salvage it, but he had managed to untangle it all so far.

Fjord started it, turning to Beau as Jester began humming a very familiar tune that struck fear into the hearts of all those around her, and said with an air of thinly concealed desperation, “So, this vacation you’re on right now. Your folks okay with it, are they?”

She narrowed her eyes at him in that way she did. Molly lazily turned his head to get a better view- only to have Jester give him a good idea what it felt like to be the horse as she yanked on his hair like reins, “Stay still,” she huffed at him, “You’re making it more difficult to create my masterpiece.”

Choosing to pass over the ominous use of the word ‘masterpiece’ he instead fished another few mint leaves out of the pouch at his belt and began chewing them.

He had found a small clump of fresh mint the other day and had eagerly picked it. Over the course of their travels he had managed to persuade most of the others to try some.

Fjord had shrugged noncommittally, claiming not to be offended by it, but also not really sure why anyone would bother chewing it.

Beau had glowered at him as though he’d offered her freshly picked hemlock instead and refused to put it anywhere near her mouth.

Jester had liked it so much she requested more. Which she had promptly sprinkled all over the top of one of her doughnuts in order to make it ‘mint flavoured.’ She was a strange soul, but Molly wasn’t one to judge.

Caleb, apparently already used to the practice, had taken some without needing to be urged and thanked him for it.

He had also helped coax Nott into trying some.  The leaves had remained in her mouth for all of twenty seconds before she spat them out and scrubbed at her tongue with her fingers, looking disgusted.

“Yeah, they were cool with it,” Beau said, shrugging, “No big deal.”

Molly, recognising the tone by now, absently riffled through the deck of cards that were rarely out of his hands, and threw one at her like a glaive. Happily, her attention was focused on Fjord, and so it hit her in the side of the head. She snatched at it before it fell and whirled on him, torn between staring down at it.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, brandishing it at him.

Above him, Jester cried eagerly, “Oh me! Let me see it! I will reveal the secret message it conceals!”

Abandoning the ‘masterpiece’ of Molly’s hair, she crawled to the edge of the wagon and took the card from Beau. She stared down at it for almost a full minute then burst out laughing, with such a loud shriek that the horse snorted, lashing its tail, startled by the sudden noise. Caleb quieted it with a gentle touch to the neck while Jester rolled around the bottom of the wagon, clutching her stomach.

“What?” Beau demanded, glaring at Molly  who just offered her a soft smile, and hastily pulled his legs up against his chest to avoid the retaliatory whack from her staff.

Controlling herself with difficulty, Jester sat up again, holding the card before her as though she was about to bless someone with it, she announced, “It means that you’re lying.”

Molly plucked the card from Jester’s fingers and deftly slotted it back into the deck as Beau fumed, “I am not.”

“Oh but you are,” Molly said, grinning at her upside down from where Jester had yanked his head by the horns back into her lap so she could continue playing with her hair, “You’re lying through your teeth, and you’re doing a very poor job of it, I must say.”

“My parents don’t care that I’ve gone on this trip!” she burst out, as though increasing her volume would make them less likely to see through her bullshit.

“Mm, that’s closer, but still not quite the truth, is it?” Molly said, smiling at her.

“You better shut your mouth so I can’t see those teeth of yours any more or I swear I’ll knock them down your throat, ”Beau snarled at him, starting forward before being restrained by Fjord’s gentle hand on her shoulder.

In response, Molly bared his fangs at her. She growled.

“What are you trying to say, Mollymauk?” Caleb asked, frowning slightly at him from where he was up front walking the horse.

Nott was currently sitting on its back, occasionally accepting the flowers Caleb passed to her from the side of the road. The first time she had tried this the horse had nearly bolted and left them alone in the wilderness. But by now, as with so many other things, the poor beast seemed just resigned to its fate. Molly was fairly certain it was counting down the days to Winter’s Crest with eagerness. Though he doubted Jester would ever actually let him butcher and eat it.

“You come from money, yes?” He shot at Beau. It was a rhetorical question, but she grunted vaguely in a way that meant ‘yes’. “Girls like you that come from money like that aren’t generally allowed to wander the countryside wherever they will. Maybe your parents truly don’t care, I know I certainly wouldn’t-“ she made a rude hand gesture towards him, and he responded with one of his own, “But my guess is they have no idea you’re taking this little tour of the world.”

Beau flushed red at that and Molly smirked, popping another mint leaf into his mouth and feeling satisfied.

“Uh, what about siblings?” Caleb interjected as Beau clenched her fists tightly and glared in Molly’s direction. It was a very obvious attempt at defusing the situation, but it was curiously difficult to deny the awkward wizard anything. “Brothers? Sisters?”

“What about them?” Beau muttered, looking away from Molly.

“Well, do you have any? Don’t they miss you being away from home for so long?” Caleb asked.

Molly cracked an eye open to peer at Beau. She had gone curiously quiet, as though all the rage and fight that had been blazing through her only a moment before was gone. “Got a sister. Younger,” she grunted, finally, “I miss her but she-“ She broke off, then shrugged, “She’s cool. It doesn’t bother her, she just wants me to be happy and all that sappy shit...” she trailed off, scuffing her toe against the ground.

This time, Molly judged, she wasn’t lying. She was still hiding something from them but...This time he had no desire press her.

“So, what about you?” Beau demanded, turning to Fjord with an almost alarmingly rapid rise in the volume of her voice as she very pointedly shifted the focus to the half-orc.

Fjord sighed, “I’ve got siblings. One brother, he’s a few years younger than me, and six sisters, some older, some younger, I’m kind of in the middle.”

Nott made a small choking noise from her perch atop the unfortunate horse. “Your parents had eight children?” She squawked, looking horrified at the very idea.

“Yup,” Fjord said, shrugging his shoulders, “It wasn’t that bad. Two of my sisters ended up as captains, and I ended up getting my first job on one of their ships before I worked my way up.”

“Hold on,” Beau interjected, goggling at Fjord, “You said your sisters were captains?”

“Sure,” Fjord replied easily. He frowned down at Beau as she continued to goggle at him, as though he’d announced his sisters each had three heads and twelve arms. “You know,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially to Beau, “It’s only really humans that bother about that shit. Half-orcs, not so much.”

“Tieflings don’t either!” Jester chimed in.

“In my experience, tieflings can take or leave gender as they see fit,” Molly supplied mildly, “It’s definitely a human thing.”

Jester nodded her agreement. “Definitely.”

“Definitely,” Nott agreed, surprising them all by chipping in to the conversation.

“Humans have many things other races do not,” Caleb added, “And a lot of them are very stupid and unnecessary.”

Molly smiled over at the wizard, “Excellently put,” he said, with the smile he gave the wizard whenever he wanted to see him blush.

“Don’t tease him,” Jester chided him in Infernal, lightly slapping his shoulder.

Molly’s grin broadened, “I wasn’t teasing, my dear, I was being honest.” he replied in the same language, “But he does turn a delightful red colour when you get him flustered, don’t you think?”

“Well you shouldn’t fluster him,” she said, “It’s not nice.”

He snorted at the irony of that, but decided not to comment on it.

Caleb, still slightly pink, turned to Fjord, cleared his throat and said, “So you’re father was a sailor, too. What about your mother?”

Fjord smiled at that, “She was a blacksmith,”  he informed them all. Even Jester looked up in interest at this. Apparently it hadn’t yet come up in her travels with the half-orc. “Yup, that’s how she and my father met, see. He was also trained to protect the ships, as well as sail them.  He went to her for weapons when they stopped in Port Damali one day. Said he fell in love the moment he set eyes on her.”

Jester ‘awwww’d’ loudly at this, while Beau mimed vomiting into the grass at the side of the road, making Molly snort in amusement.

“Was she very beautiful?” Jester asked excitedly, apparently not noticing either Molly or Beau’s reaction to this.

“Still is,” Fjord said with a soft smile.

Jester’s grin turned positively wicked and she leaned out of the wagon slightly to say, eyebrows waggling suggestively, “Maybe that’s where you get your good looks, hm?”

Fjord promptly blushed at that, which only made Jester look more pleased.

“You shouldn’t fluster people, it’s not nice,” Molly said in Infernal, imitating Jester’s voice.

She tugged on one of his horns irritably and he smirked some more, so she did it again. Then she peered up at Fjord and said, still in Infernal, “He turns a very amusing colour too, though.”

“That he does,” Molly replied, lazily casting another glance in Fjord’s direction.

He raised his tail and Jester slapped hers against it, both of them smiling.

“I still haven’t gotten used to that,” Nott said, eyeing Molly’s tail as he flicked it idly from side to side.

“That we have tails?” Jester asked, cocking her head and frowning.

Nott nodded.

“Ah, but there are so many uses for them,” Molly said, lightly smacking Fjord’s ass as he moved around the cart to walk beside Caleb. He flushed again and Jester grinned.

Nott giggled, looking eager, “What else?” she asked, eyes shining with interest.

Molly smiled and shifted slightly, dangling his tail over the side of the wagon and knocking on it to get Frumpkin’s attention. Caleb’s familiar, now restored to cat form much to the wizard’s delight, trotted over and immediately began batting at the tip of Molly’s tail as he jerked it out of reach.

Nott laughed even harder, leaning around the edge of the horse to watch.

“Careful,” Caleb warned, though he too was smiling, “His claws are sharp.”

He wasn’t wrong. Molly was just a little too slow and Frumpkin’s claws tore through the delicate skin. With a soft hiss of pain he tugged it back up into the cart.

“Sorry,” Caleb said, frowning apologetically as Frumpkin continued to look around for the source of his entertainment.

“Not at all, I was asking for it,” Molly replied mildly, smiling.

“I’m the cleric!” Jester shrieked, “Let me see it! I will tend to your wounds.”

“I really don’t think it needs-“ Molly began, but Jester had already seized his tail and yanked it up to her eyes to inspect it.

“Poor tail,” she said, prodding at the thin slashes. She pressed a soft kiss to it and then released him, “All better,” she announced.

“All better indeed,” he agreed, leaning forwards and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, “Thank you, sweetling.”

Jester beamed at him.

“What about you, Jester?” Nott asked, who had now turned right around on the horse’s back, facing the two of them in the cart.

Molly returned his head to Jester’s lap and allowed her to keep playing with his hair as Beau said, “Yeah. You got twelve siblings stashed up in Nicodranas somewhere?”

Jester laughed at that, “Definitely not,” she replied, “I am an only child,” she announced, smiling, apparently satisfied by this.

“Figures,” Fjord muttered under his breath.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, glowering at the tall half-orc, hands planted on her hips.

“You’re just a very singular individual, darling, couldn’t picture it any other way,” he replied, smoothly.

Jester considered this for a long moment, a faint crease between her brows. Then she beamed and settled herself back down in the wagon, looking rather pleased and proud. “Quite right,” she nodded.

“Your father isn’t at home though, is he?” Molly said, craning his head back in her lap to squint up at her, “The first day we met I remember you asking me about him,” he spread the cards in a fan and waved them under her nose to underline his point.

“I did ask you!” she said, looking excited he remembered. “The truth is I have never met him, or-“ she broke off, frowning slightly, “I did when I was very, very small, my mother said But I don’t remember, so it doesn’t count.”

“Reasonable,” Molly agreed.

“He left my mother when I was very young. But she wouldn’t tell me why. Or where he went. Or what he was like.”

“So what?” Beau said incredulously, snorting, “You figured you’d just traipse up and down all of Wildemount until you found out for yourself?”

“Yes,” Jester said, composedly.

“Oh,” Beau said, apparently taken aback by this matter-of-fact reply, “Well...Good luck with that,” she finally managed to get out, obviously at a complete loss for how to respond to Jester.

Molly had noticed that a lot of people seemed to have that reaction to her. And what was more, she seemed to like it.

“Thank you, Beau,” Jester said, composedly.

“So, what’s your mother like?” Fjord asked conversationally.

“She’s a wonderful woman,” Jester said, nodding sagely, “A  blue tiefling, just like me, and very, very beautiful.  The most beautiful woman in all the world.”

“You can’t technically say that, though,” Caleb said, frowning, “Because you haven’t seen every woman in the world to know that-“ He caught the ‘stop talking now’ look that Fjord was giving him and broke off, but too late.

“No!” Jester declared, “She is the most beautiful woman in all the world. Lots and lots of people say it. People come from all over the world to see her and be kissed by her.”

“Be kissed by her?” Nott repeated, eyes wide.

Jester nodded, “Yes. She was blessed by the Traveler, you see, to be so beautiful that people will come from far and wide to see her. And she’s magical, too. If you’re kissed by her, you’re destined to meet your soulmate.”

Everyone took a long moment to digest this but really, Molly thought, given the way Jester was, that story could have been a lot more shocking.

“So, if they’re destined to meet their soulmate from a kiss...What wondrous thing happens if they sleep with her, then?” he asked her in Infernal, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Me,” Jester replied primly.

He choked on his mint leaves.

Jester patted him on the back, grinning. Then she turned her attention to Nott, “What about you, Nott?” she trilled.

The little goblin girl gave a small shudder. “Oh, my family were dreadful. Definitely not magical at all,” she said, shaking her head so hard her large ears flapped emphatically. “And I certainly don’t want to find them on this trip.”

“You ran away from them, then?” Fjord asked, the big man’s voice surprisingly gentle.

Nott nodded firmly. “Oh yes. But I...I may have...Taken a few things before I left.”

“A few things?” Fjord repeated, “What kinds of things?”

“Gold things,” Nott said, wringing her hands in her lap as though expecting them to be angry with her. “Lots of gold things.” She paused a moment, then amended, “Actually all of them.”

“All of them?” Molly repeated, eyebrows raised as he peered upside down at Nott.

She nodded and then confessed in a rush, “I stole all of the gold that my clan king had before I ran away.”

A long moment of silence followed this pronouncement. Then both Beau and Molly burst out laughing at the same moment.

“Good for you, kid,” Beau said, smiling and giving Nott a gentle tap on the shoulder with the end of her staff.

Nott smiled around at them all rather sheepishly, but looked pleased with herself all the same.

“Caleb,” she said, turning to the wizard walking along absently beside the horse, for once actually paying attention to the conversation and not one of his many books. “Do you want to share anything?”

Caleb looked around at everyone watching him, cleared his throat and said, “You have been my only family for a little while, now,” to Nott who smiled a little sadly and patted him on the shoulder. “My mother still lives in Zemni,” he admitted, “But I haven’t seen her in some time. She’s a bookmaker.”

“You continue to find new and amusing ways of shocking me each and every day that we travel together, Caleb,” Molly said, sardonically.

“What about your father?” Fjord asked, the group as a whole ignoring Molly’s comment.

“My father died when I was a teenager,” Caleb admitted, not looking too sorry about this. “He was not a very nice man, and he did not like magic. After he died, my mother took care of me, and found books so that I could study some more. When I was ready, she encouraged me to leave and travel, learn more.”

“Any siblings?” Beau asked.

“I had a sister,” Caleb said, very quietly, “But she...She died. She, she was always rather frail and she grew ill one Winter. She did not get better.”

Nott gently patted Caleb’s arm and he smiled, squeezing her hand in answer.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Fjord said quietly.

“It was a very long time ago,” Caleb replied, mechanically.

Molly frowned slightly. There was something...Off about his story. Not by much, but Molly had gotten very good at reading people during his time at the carnival. It had been essential to picking the correct marks with his tarot readings, and responding properly to their reactions.

He didn’t have time to question the wizard, however, because a moment later Jester flicked one of his horns to get his attention and he looked up at her instead.

“I haven’t forgotten about you, Mollymauk,” she sang, prodding him in the side with the tip of her finger, making him squirm away from her.  Perhaps the biggest mistake he had ever made in his life was letting Jester see how damned ticklish he was.

“There are a lot of things about me that are hard to forget, sweetheart,” Molly said with a lazy grin, “You’ll have to be more specific.” he said, more focused on batting her evilly wiggling fingers away from him than on the conversation.

“Your family,” she said, blinking down at him, “Everyone else has said things, but not you.”

“Well that’s simple,” he said with an easy smile, “You’ve already met my family.”

Jester frowned down at him, her nose scrunching rather adorably as she did so, “No we haven’t. I would definitely have noticed if we had ran into a flock of lavender coloured tieflings in fancy coats,” she plucked at the silk coat he was sprawled in.

Molly just smiled up at her, “You did meet them. Orna, and Toya, and Gustav. Have you forgotten already? It wasn’t that long ago, surely. Too many doughnuts, I think, they’re rotting your brain.”

“My brain is not rotten,” Jester declared, “It’s the most unrotten thing in the world!”

“Quite right,” Molly agreed, patting her hand.  

“But they weren’t your family family,” Jester said, “They weren’t tieflings.”

“Your powers of perception never fail to astound me,” Molly replied. Jester jabbed him irritably with the tip of her tail. “You’re right, they weren’t tieflings, but they were my family,” he said, hoping that would be enough to stop the flood of questions that were causing an uncomfortable prickle of cold dread to slide down his spine. “All of them. And Yasha, of course.”

“But what about your family family,” Jester persisted, “The other lavender tieflings of the world, you know. We want to hear all about them!”

He tensed slightly, drawing his head out of her lap and sitting up, spine stiff, at the same time Beau said, “Yeah, c’mon Tealeaf, everyone else shared. Take your turn.”

“I bet your mother was really, really pretty,” Jester continued to prattle, seemingly oblivious to the fact that this was the last thing he wanted to discuss.

“Leave it, Jester,” he said, his voice quiet and strained, but he wasn’t sure that she heard.

“Did she have tattoos as well? Or is that more a ‘you’ thing? Oh! Did she make your cloak for you?” she continued.

The rest of the group had fallen a little more quiet now, perhaps sensing the tension that seemed particularly tight around his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs, making it painful to breathe, crushing his heart.

“Stop it,” Molly whispered, staring straight ahead, that cold dread that had been snaking its way up his spine snapping taut like a whip, stinging at his raw nerves.

He clenched his hands in his lap to stop the trembling, but it didn’t do any good.

“What about siblings, then?” Jester persisted, head cocked to one side, voice now alive with curiosity, “A little sister, maybe? You would be a good older brother, I think, you-“

“Shut up!” he barked, silencing her at last as he turned on her, red eyes flashing, fangs instinctively bared. “How about you mind your own damned business for once in your life,” he snapped at her.

Jester’s eyes had gone wide, her mouth slightly open. She didn’t say anything, but she stared at him as though he was her once beloved pet suddenly turned savage.

There was a tight lump in his throat and he could already feel the guilt creeping into him, smothering the flare of anger that he was still struggling to place.

All the same, he shoved himself out of the wagon, unable to take the stares of the others, shoved his hands into his pockets and muttered, “I’m going to walk awhile. Someone else can take a turn.”

Without another word he sped up to walk ahead of their little convoy. The wagon didn’t move fast, with their sad, solitary horse to pull it, and it didn’t take much effort to get clear ahead of them, out of range of their whispered comments about his behaviour, their prying eyes, and above all, the hurt on Jester’s face.

************

[spikedfanta]

organizations and people

suresh kumar

yashas shetty

whofeedsblr

rewilding

5) suresh kumar farm - re-wilding - indian english garden, chakota, etc. //

experience ((the wild garden ))

today, i've been thinking about the internet and all its knowledge systems - there is much that the internet doesn't contain. it does not contain so many stories, the ability to generate respect and mindfulness for one's surroundings, to help one better be in touch with reality -- but at the same time it can connect one to others trying to do the same.

The raintree - I never knew how dividied people were about it.

those blogspot blogs - so many people had/have one. and the articles still pop up now when you look for hyper niche information - particularly during this project, when i look for information on places - flora and fauna - and general nature, food, and life related information on bangalore! a blog that someone started out of their own interest to share a part of their lives - carve out their own space on the internet. and it differs from instagram, or facebook - it really does. while super useful for sharing what youre up to - you dont really get to sit and share long form content about your life. and i wonder if that has reduced ones capacity to then read about these happenings in someone elses life. it's only now, when so much of the information i am looking for (related to experiencing places in and around bangalore - treks, markets, spaces of nature, etc. + food + flora and fauna, lakes, edible weeds + bangalore nostalgia) happens to be on blogs. an unofficial networked document of the city that is coming together with google searches. the way we gather information on the internet, so disparate yet all coming together - which is why a resource bank for the project is important.

we learn on the internet by gathering all this information from all over - sources from youtube videos to blogs to even comments (which can be very useful!) to forums and niche old websites.. and they become a psychogeography of place on the internet. we then synthesize it together to create our own understanding which we can then share, i think. and it all has such a personality...

i think this research combined with actively going out of my way to engage with people in the real world is really building a sort of image in my head. i think what i am trying to do is express that image in a project, and using all these tools from people abroad etc etc to express it in a very bioregional local way - a sort of 'back to the land' for the internet. it's astounding to see the amount of videos for things like making henna or flower garlanding or gardening -- anything you want to learn, and there is a video. it wasnt always this way wasnt it? i remember that there were so many western videos you had to shuffle through. at any rate, one part of the project is documenting my creations and what im learning in a bioregional way -- by creating a sort of alter ego and making an internet personality/blogger type.

what kind of personality can i give my alter ego? she'll be allowed to say and do a lot more than i can, i think. but she still lives in my body and experiences what i experience. she is a curious scientist of the world - she is the child forever in me. she picks up things and runs with them. she is playful and mindful.

speaking of mindful, i am back in bellandur and i havent been doing much sense mapping. i havent done much sense mapping at all. im not sure what im scared of... well, im going to hear the birds and smell the dust and feel the dust and hear the construction and taste the rose apple see the kind of boxy room i live in, in an apartment .. where all the noises echo louder and loom off further into the distance.. as well as make their way here. what is the difference from yelahanka, with the trees? covering me with their canopies? what about suresh's farm - further from the hubbubububub.

symbols.. hmm.. the home garden tulsi. a tincture or tonic water. a weed popping out of a pavement. two birds playing. construction sounds. far off construction red light. dust. colours... faded blue, grey, white, green, red. crushing. the act of it. the sound. the sound of simmering. the sound of ticking and an oven. chopping. plucking. leaves rustling. crushing in your fingers and smelling.

scent of tulsi and basil as i rub it and it makes me less anxious and less nauseous and very calm and minty. henna and its bittery herbal smell. the tonic waters.. sweet basil, a bit anise like. and lemon, no citrus just sweet lime leaf. malabar spinach and a stain like blood. royal purple blood. the sweet pannir of a rose apple,, a delicate. treat. what if i added rose petal? rose water? a gingery affair, spicy.. floating suspended in water. a bug. i like how they call it that. how long till it comes alive? lemon and fenugreek and black tea in henna - the goopy mixture, ready to go on my hair. soapy - the leaves. clay like - the powder. visually.. the leaves go sop and lose their green on so much boiling. on pounding. the malabar spinach goes POP. there are greens and a pumpkin. visually, i feel satisfied by the rainbow today. purple malabar. indigo.. uh.. i suppose the malabar satisfiesx that. green.. the tulsi, the aloe, thee lemongrass, the basil, the ajwain, the betel leaf.. the spinach greens.. the henna. wow. a lot of green. taste.. well all of it tasted nice. chewing a tulsi and betel leaf. yum. yellow.. lemon and panir. orange hmm. papaya? carrot. red.. hibiscus. a curry leaf.

well, anyway. i got a lot out of my head today. i shall have to spend some time organziing and planning tomorrow. i am a in a little bit of a 'do mode' flow. tomorrow morning, i will wake up by 7.. meditate. hear birds. sense check in. go for a walk to soul kere lake. sense map/check. come back. drink herbal tea. plan - covid test, things to buy and do today, places nearby to go (if any) - make a trip outside (wrap up by 12 hopefully)

lab work today -- hopefully 12-4 and later at night, with time for research (new media, blogs, projects related to tools, etc.) and some checkin in - sense journaling, symbolism, relfection, artistic expression. evening. we henna.

documentation of research for these recipes! going through comments, that only comment from soemwhere who has the same question as yours.. bringing that back to my regional level and answering it here.

at an experience leve.. suresh kumar. i am astounded by someone like him, and i wonder if i can ever be someone like that. i feel like such a privileged city girl around him, in awe of everything, dumb and stupid. but this is not true right? idk. he is a very cool man and i love how friendly he is which is required to work at such a community level. how can i imbibe that level of community gathering and effort? it is by dedication to your work but also a level of genuine respect for everyone around you. i wager that i dont have that respect? for myself? maybe? i dont know. no, and for others either. because there is competition - what is it he said. i gained my confidence through my work. there is no other way. holy shit. there is no other way. i must gain my confidence through my work. just do a lot of it. and be as open and genuine as i can to others. work on EneErgIes. no? somewhere, i know there is something that drives me to do things. and even if it might be 'shit'.. i think i have a vision, perhaps.

there are things to plan.. tomorrow, i will spend an hour just 'starting'. i suppose. blog posts be damned. i suppose as the idea comes, make a tumblr draft and let it sit with a quick note and memory. tomorrow is also a making day. so is saturday. saturday evening i plan the next week, and finish what i 'started'. and sunday i make teasers with whatever content i have right now. no time to build new content. just enough for swati and co to get a gist of what im about. and dont share everything. keep a few teases.

think i really want to do a clay texture map tomorrow. and also work on the animation. and childhood. and topography. Oh! spring equinox celebration meal as well. and chill climate weather bengal oo roo. and nostalgia mapping. def some mapping. animist... POV.. herbalism and energy and nature of plants. the ability to stain. to scent. to taste. my experience of the plant.. and what is the plant experience of me? to crush and chew and nibble. but my reality isnt a plants reality. i dont know if it 'hurts'. it exists differently. it exists. i exist.

i want some jasmine flowers definitely to make some jasmine hydrosol..

need to read some diance ackerman, and some animism / that camden art festival thing before i sleep. some

todays kitchen mapped out