#varsh ko'kuu x reader

[themildlyanxiousmage]

The Non-reigning Monarch of Indeterminate Gender and the Frog

A Tale of Love, Parenthood, and Romance

A SFW GN! reader/tav x Varsh Ko'kuu story

Chapter 1: Meet Cute at the Crèche

Notes: I try to keep the reader bland to be more universal, but they're a bit shy and anxious sometimes. It's a stressful time, so I hope that's not too specific. Also the reader is vegan. Sorry, I DO make the rules of this fic and you're vegan now. It's not really mentioned at all, but I'm leaving it open to that, so be warned. You can pretend you're on a diet if it bothers you. I won't actually use the word "vegan" ever though.

This is a bad fanfiction. Sorry about that. I also like commas and my punctuation is shit. Also sorry about that. I'm writing this in my phone's notepad without any built in spell check or grammar assistance. I'm also making the chapters short so it's not just a wall of text. I'm aware this chapter is kind of boring since it's nothing new yet, but I'm intimidated by the thought of editing big chapters.

This is not a serious fanfiction. It's really just an extension of my last Ko'kuu shitpost, but I hope it's enjoyable to all two of the other fans of the frog man.

To anyone who hasn't played the game: I take no credit for his dialogue. I only wrote the stuff outside of his quotes. This is meant to add more context and descriptions to a scene already in the game.

Chapter 1

You are no stranger to love. You know the rules of your heart, yet you find yourself feeling empty in your current path. A part of you had always been thinking of a full commitment. A life lived with another, and a family to hold dear. But who in the realms could fill the hole in your heart? Surely, there must be someone out there who could complete you, but you know you would not get this from just any other person.

Lae'zel had guided your group to Crèche Y'llek, searching desperately for purification. You had stopped to thoroughly explore every room, like you always did, despite the urgency of the tadpole lodged in your brain. When you entered the hatchery, you never expected to be taken aback by the grandeur of the towering rock walls and the dangerous beauty of the acidic pools below. You tried to take in every sight you could see, trying to commit every ripple of the different rock layers to your memory so you could sketch it later as you prepared to turn in for the night. It was part of a journalling exercise your therapist had recommended.

In the center of this marvel was a lone gith, the varsh of the hatchery, Varsh Ko'kuu, crouching tensely, silently as he gazed down at the hazardous pools below. You calmly approached him from behind, making your footsteps audible as to not startle the man lost in the dense fog of his own thoughts. His body stiffened upright as you approached, filling with a tension that made you question whether it was the right choice to attempt a conversation with the man.

"You can tell Kith'rak Therezzyn that my position has not changed!" He spat without turning towards you, his words filled with a mixture of agitation and disgust, though you could almost hear a bit of frantic pain buried beneath. "The egg requires more time. FURTHERMORE - oh," His eyes had shot to your face, words cut by his surprise. He had not expected to find an unanticipated visitor behind him in the hatchery, much less an istik. But, he realized the moment that he had been dreading had not yet arrived, and that gave him a small relief from his sense of foreboding. Still, you were an unknown variable, new to his watch, and he could not let his guard down.

"I was not expecting and istik. What brings you to my hatchery?" He inquired in the same sharp tone that all gith seemed to have when speaking to you, not with you, but his tone was a bit closer to Lae'zel's than to the other gith you had been encountering in Crèche Y'llek.

"I was interested in seeing the hatchery." You replied, trying to remain polite while still sounding clear and sure of yourself. You had found the gith of this crèche, or of anywhere really, did not respond positively to your usual soft-spoken, shy nature. "I did not mean to disturb you, though I'm surprised that it appears to be a bit empty, so I hope I did not distract you from your work too much." You added, realizing after the fact that you may have went on a bit too long for that sentence. Nervousness can turn your more concise thoughts into long winded strolls through unnecessary detail. You tried to hide the rising tension in your chest, hoping he would not berate you for your anxiety-induced wordiness.

"Almost all of the eggs in this clutch have hatched." He answered, turning back to the pools below, and thankfully ignoring you breif display of weakness. "We await only one more, which is... taking its time." He turned back to meet your gaze, trying to hide a sense of sadness that had briefly painted itself across his face. "MOST caretakers would not give the child its fair chance, but I shall! There could be greatness in that shell." He said firmly, as if trying to convince you, or your group, to not give up on the last remaining egg sitting below, but you knew that it was not you he was preparing to convince.

The narrator that had been guiding you in your head piped up finally, "You note the hope in his voice is tinged with weariness. It's the voice of a man that has fought the inevitable for a long time." Having your suspicions of the the gith's feelings confirmed, you decided to attempt to gently press the issue. Just a tad. Why you decided to, you were unsure.

"I don't mean to pry, but is there a reason why the last egg hasn't hatched yet? You seem a bit... concerned when you speak about the egg. Will something happen to it if it doesn't hatch soon?" Perhaps your words went a smidge too emotion focused for interacting with a githyanki. To your surprise, he didn't seem to react too negatively to your choice of words. Perhaps his concern for the egg had dulled his gith temper's edge. Perhaps his position in the hatchery had given him a softer side when dealing with those inexperienced in githyanki communication. Perhaps you were just a racist for assuming that any gith would jump at a suggestion of any emotion that could possibly be perceived as weak. In any case, like a bored cat sitting in front of a wall of peeling floral wallpaper, your inquiry had stripped away a layer of the shredded facade that had masked his bare feelings.

"Kith'rak Therezzyn will give orders to destroy it. She will say it's a weakling. I'll give it a while longer, and if it doesn't hatch, it will have proven her right." He said with a tense resignation, before his fiery resolve took hold over him once more. "But not all that arrive late are weak! I created this entire hatchery, despite being the last of my clutch to hatch. They almost drowned me in the hatching pool. If it wasn't for the varsh of my clutch -" He paused, emotion stopping him from completing his sentence. His head shifted around to avoid your gaze, his jaw tense, holding back any show of weakness from revealing itself in front of the istik standing before him. He swallowed back the unease that threatened to force it's way out, threatening to divulge itself to the strangers who could never understand the anguish he felt. Perhaps Lae'zel would, someday, but that's beside the point right now. "This one deserves the same chance." He declared with a burning certainty and determination that plunged a knife into your heart, twisting into it a sense of despair at the thought of the forlorn egg drowning in the burning acid pools below. You tried to breathe calmly in order to hold back the tears that you could feel rushing to your eyes. You took in a sharp breath to keep the dams of your tear ducts from spilling over. Now was REALLY not the time for your empathetic crying.

You took another breath before you cautiously responded to the impassioned speech he just gave you. "I-is there anything we could do to help you? I-I know we won't be able to do anything more than you could to convince the Kith'rak, but- " you paused, unsure of any suggestions. Unsure of anything you could do to help. It really felt like a lost cause. How could you, an ISTIK, do ANYTHING to change the fate of this one small egg?

"Maybe I could take it with me?" You mumbled out as you looked down to the ground in thought, before your head snapped up at the realization of what words you had just spilled out of your mouth. You looked at the varsh like a deer in the headlights. You expected him to fill with rage at the notion of an istik taking an egg away from the crèche, but to your bewilderment, he did not immediately reach for a weapon. Instead, he continued your conversation.

"You? What do you know about githyanki child-rearing?" He tilted his head in annoyed amusement, halfway laughing at the audacity of the istik in front of him. Then, his gaze gently turned inward in contemplation. "Still," he spoke pensively "the captain's due for an inspection any day now, and if she sees it here... Tell me," his eyes shot back to you, piercing you with a mixture of intense scrutiny and a tinge of hope. "What will you do with it if I entrust it to you?" By the hells, he was actually considering it.

"I-" you stammered out before straightening your posture and attempting to mimic his look of confidence. "I suppose I would raise the child as my own."

"That's what I feared."

You felt a tiny part of your heart die inside at those words. The fake confidence you had somehow fabricated left your body in one quiet breath.

"Still," he continued with an upbeat hopefulness you didn't expect to see, or at least something as close to an upbeat hopefulness you had ever seen in a githyanki so far. "I'm sure it's nature will pervade, even if raised among... lesser species." You felt your brain short circuit as his words hit your ears. Was he really agreeing to give you the egg?

With a level of certainty that you found mildly terrifying ringing in his words, he continued, "I can no longer ignore that Kith'rak Therezzyn's patience has its limits. Very well. Here, take these - they will aid in your approach to the egg." With that, he passed you his pair of spare boots used to walk through the hazardous acid below. He gestured to the path that led to the lower level, and you nodded in thanks. You made your way down and slipped on the oversized boots before stepping through the green liquid.

Cautiously, you slowly approached the egg. As you looked down at it, a feeling of anxiousness washed over you. You could hear the narrator remark, "A large green egg with an uneven shell sits in the dangerous pool. You can see the infant inside stirring gently at your closeness to his protective casing."

You reached down, and slowly, gently, apprehensively, you picked up the egg. A part of you couldn't believe what you were doing right now. Afraid of cracking the exterior, you carefully tucked the egg into your enchanted backpack for safekeeping.

As you made your way out of the hatchery, you approached the varsh once more. You gave him a quiet thank you, and you assured him you would do your best to raise the child to be a strong individual. How you would do that was beyond you, but you didn't voice your doubts to the man. He gave you an approving nod, and you could see what you thought was a look of gratitude in his eyes, but you weren't sure.

As your group left the hatchery, you could feel his eyes on your back, once again lost in the dense fog of his thoughts. While his weariness regarding the egg's future was assuaged, another uncertainty had taken it's place. One the varsh had held warily at bay for years. One that now was about to break free of it's fragile chains.

To be continued...