#« ( Emon ) » Answers.

[freeusemuses]

And how long did Scourge and Kyrie wait to get married?

…are they married?

OF COURSE they're married!

They got married shortly after Scourge was collectively named "captain" of the Devils.

[nvrcmplt]

vega slumps against emon, head resting on his shoulder. exhaustion is not new to him, but it means little now as he falls asleep against his bestfriend. he knows he's safe and that worries and anything else mean very little. so he's just gonna doze off, silver hair falling into his face and a small furrow to his brow.

Having the trust of one of the most terrifying spellcasters out there in the world, was a privilege Emon knew well. He fought hard to make sure it remained, that his love and trust for Vega never waned, never wobbled even if his body was one under a hex to hate the very man upon his shoulder. The feeling was warm, even if they were cold - they were always the warmest place to be near. Their talented mind, their magic scriptures, their spells and conversations of a mana filled world was nothing less of a divine happiness in Emon's life. So, when he could provide just a piece of respite for his dearest person, he was not to play pranks nor move a muscle. Instead, he merely cast a bubble of warmth, a silencing layer with peace and tranquillity underneath.

A small space for just them, to rest in their bones and allow the Necromancer a slumber that many thought would never need such a thing. How wrong this world was. No matter their talents, looks and magics, they were all beings of needs. Simple and basic boxes to be ticked to keep sanity and happiness at the levels always needed.

Emon was glad - for Vega sleeping meant thousands of things in his presence, so who was he to dismiss that? "Rest well, Vega."

[clover-46]

If I wanted to legit be with Gavin would that make me a monsterfucker?

if that makes you a monsterfucker that makes ME a monsterfucker and idk about that

[frees-erotic-writings]

Snippet: Fearne’s first visit to Emon led her to Greystone Keep, and the sounds inside piqued her curiosity into going inside. It would be a long time before she made her way back out, though she didn’t complain. (Devil of your choice)

Fearne was only going to Greystone Keep for a quick meeting with the new adventures that had taken up residence there.

She didn't come back out for an entire week.

Those strange moans and groans merited further investigation on her part. And when she saw a gorgeous half-elven woman riding a green skinned Tiefling on a completely ruined bedframe as though her entire life was dependent upon it ... well that certainly had Fearne's attention!

What happened next however, she didn't expect. That Tiefling wrapped his long tail around her neck, and pulled her in!

For the next week, Fearne experienced positions and pleasure the Fey had never known before. She was mating pressed, pile driven, full nelsoned, reverse full nelsoned, and was even put into a standing mating press!

The week finally ended with Fearne being fucked from behind, as the Tiefling used her horns as fuck handles. She was pumped full of so much of his cum, there was no way she wasn't carrying his child.

Fearne eventually stumbled out of Greystone Keep. Very cumdrunk, and with a glowing green sigil on her lower abdomen.

[intcritus]

Emon smiled upon the face of his best friend, though it's been some time, yet again it was always a place of peace for the Mage. When sat by, Emon adjusted to scoot closer and proceed to rest his shoulder against theirs. Back in the day the venom in their direction would be without guilt or shame but nowadays? No one knew a damn thing. This world was no longer Aaphrine. He didn't need to hide or pretend to hate his friend for the sake of making Head Mages give up their grimoires for his need to learn.

"Would you be proud of me for learning one of your spells?" It may put a black dot in his core, but it was a beautiful blemish as far as he was concerned.

Being able to breathe without unneeded scorn and ill stares made Vega realize just how much tension he used to hold in his frame. Now, he was loose-limbed and relaxed, able to stare up at the afternoon sun and letting it's warm rays wash over pale skin. Just for a few, the sun tended to burn him too easily. But he could indulge, and even more when Emon settled against him.

Turning his head at the inquiry, a soft chuckle left the necromancer. ❝ ━ Did you think I wouldn't ? Have you forgotten how much I enjoy magic because of you ? ❞ Vega isn't worried about Emon learning darker magic. They should have a differing repertoire when it came to their spell casting. Emon was no exception honestly, the amount of spells he knew was impressive and Vega had spent most of his life being proud and in awe of his bestfriend. Who else would conquer such dark spells then come seeking validation ? The little fucker. ❝ ━ Of course I'm proud of you, Emon, there's never any question of that. You'll have to show me which spell soon so I can see if you're casting wrong, I don't want you hit with a rebound.❞ Laying his head against Emon's, he gives a content hum, more than content in relishing this new world and the god he'd been able to ressurect. One of his strongest minions now. Oh, the gods were never gonna hear the end of that one.

[bronzebtch]

‘ you can’t get rid of me that easy. ’ / visenya

❝ i never wish to, sweet girl. ❞ but the little princess is clearly not sweet �� if anything, rhea cannot help but see the ferocity she has only ever seen in her estranged husband; back when he was young, and angry, and was content in blaming her for the marriage when she herself had wanted it much less than he did. must be an old valyrian trait, such fury, rhea cannot help from thinking - or ... if the rumours were true ...

but it would be foolish to say that aloud. rhea has heard tales of what comes to those who dare brand princess rhaenyra's children as bastards, and the lady of runestone is not invested enough in the legitimacy of the heir to risk her tongue. she has a land to rule, and subjects to look after — and should this kingdom come to war for the right heir to sit on the throne, she will have to prepare her men for that, as well. little else matters.

though this girl ...

❝ i cannot give you the lessons you want. ❞ rhea says diplomatically, her voice is not one to dismiss, but merely to declare. this, what she says, is fact. there is no way around it. ❝ if you're in need of a bow and an arrow, lessons in stealth while you hunt your game, or the duty of running a keep, i am at your service. aside from that, you run more luck with bothering your shield-at-arms for swords and spikes, young princess. warmongering has always been more of my former husband's expertise than mine. ❞

@roseguided / random dialogue meme + accepting

[rhaenyrha]

if it bothers you that I send you ask tell me and I'll stop.

HI ANON no you are totally fine!!  i am flattered to know that people actually care about my rhaenyra opinions, there are just some questions i would rather not answer because i feel like i do not write enough on this account to share some more potentially controversial opinions without being annoying 🥴  but please feel free to continue sending asks!!  one day i will be fully active on this account.  one day

[captainofthetidesbreath]

just thinking about the similarities between the narrative of the Luxon arriving to Exandria and the narrative about the arrival of the pantheon to Exandria shortly after. Young, formless, from beyond, seeking to understand themselves through the act of creation and interacting with the peoples and beings they have created:

According to the teachings of the Kryn and the Umavi who scribe their faith, it is believed that long before the gods of Exandria came to shape this world, there was a time when a single Light came from the dark nothingness. Other lights came into being around them, settling as the stars in the cosmos. This one Light, however, resisted the force that beckoned them to burn like their star-fated brethren. [The Light found a world and, embracing this cold rock, gave fiery life to the world. That chaos eventually created the Primordials.] Amazed with their children, the Light wanted to guide them to learn of themselves, which in turn would help the Light discover their own purpose—but the children warred amongst themselves and killed one another, their souls born of the Light becoming lost to the dark beyond. [The Light sacrificed most of their own essence to create the beacons and institute a rebirth cycle for betterment and learning. Exhausted, the Light fell into a slumber, to be woken when the beacons are reassembly and] the children could grant the answer to the question the Light had sought from the very beginning: what are they and what was their purpose? — Explorer's Guide to Wildemount

—

So as it stands, the Luxon was an entity, is an entity that existed pre-pantheon, pre-founding of Exandria, essentially a being of light that was born at the point of creation of the universe as it may be. Couldn't understand itself. It just knew it was and was light and heading into darkness. And occasionally it would pass by other things of light. And eventually it came upon this lonely rock. And it felt lonely and this rock seemed lonely, but together maybe they could do something. And the Luxon began to embrace this world. [...] But essentially Luxon wanted to understand itself. It was like, what am I? And if I can bring life to other things, maybe it can tell me what I am. You know, I'm only defined by the observations of things outside, if I don't know what I am. So if I can create things that could look back and be like, you are this, then I can know what I am. But there were the issues of this elemental chaos, this planet that began to just roil with nothing. There was nothing there that it could grab ahold of and speak with. There was no consciousness here. So it essentially broke itself up and scattered itself throughout the world in hopes that one day, something would find and reassemble it. And when it did, it could have then asked the question, "What am I?" — Matt, Campaign 2 Wrap-Up

—

Through the ashen skies of Primordial Creation, the gods arrived from an unknown realm located beyond the ether. These ambitious divinities—young and still formless—looked down upon this roiling realm and saw potential for great strength and outstanding beauty, and the chance to learn their own place in creation. [...] As a note from the High Curator of Emon’s Cobalt Reserve, the chronicle of Vasselheim states that the gods were given form and name only when the peoples of Exandria began to worship them[...] It would be remiss to not at least conjecture that while the Protean Gods lacked distinct form, they still had unique thoughts, emotions, and motivations that were later codified through the worship of the people. — Tal'Dorei Campaign Setting Reborn; Explorer's Guide to Wildemount has a mostly similar narrative (near word-for-word identical), though it covers the second paragraph here in a more succinct: "As culture grew, and the people further understood the world around them, they also looked up to their creators and gave them worship, gave them form, gave them title and purpose."

[frenchiefitzhere]

You're a newly-coalesced d(a)emon, about to rift into Elegy for the first time...

'Splain to me your answers in the tags

[freeusemuses]

Would any of the male Devils sleep with workout Rogue?

Not Enough Alcohol in the World || No || Maybe if I were wasted || Maybe || Eh…Sure || Yes || TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF NOW!

Rogue barely gets time to get through her pre-workout stretching, before Varris had her face down, and ass up. Doors are locked, windows are shut. She's gonna end up getting carried out.

[nvrcmplt]

Vega is here to disrupt shit by whacking Emon with the blunt end of his scythe, right in the funny bone.

"Just say you wanna flirt with me, Vega." His arm was out of commission though, elbow smarting like heck as it's turned off like the hurt was an off switch. Though it didn't stop him from flipping his own staff to jam the blunt end into their kneecap in return. "Loser."

[mrsmiagreer]

HEAVY EA SPOILER

i’m gonna react as I listen

OMG HES WHISPERING

he does kinda sound like a d[a]emon i think you guys were right

THE CHORUS?! SO HE IS A D[A]EMON

ABOMINATION WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!

human?? Is that us?

He’s an articulate?

I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS MAN I KINDA LIKE HIM🫢

is the guy he’s beating up a TELEPATH?!!

OKAY WHICH ONE IS HUSH?

WOW I LOVE THIS

I would be super scared wtf you mean move or die??

ITS TOO LATE TO BACK OUT NOW?! THIS IS GONNA HURT?! I’LL PROBABLY SURVIVE?!

oouu more humming

“Oh— good morning :)” AWE

SO HE’S NOT A DEMON?!

IS HE A BAD GUY?!

“You’re not getting off that bed until i let you, and i’m not gonna let you yet” Don’t threaten me with a good time baby😮‍💨😋

He chose his name on the spot😭

OH SO WE’RE AN EMPOWERED HUMAN

what’s a spellsong? New powers?

why doesn’t he have a core?

“I wanted him dead 🤭😅😌🤫”

IS THAT OUR PETNAME?!

Omg what’s going on. Wym “What i’m going to do”

“Brave and Kind and Foolish” my life story fr💀

HE’S A VILLAIN

he’s like…weirdly sweet

HE’S NOT A DAEMON AND HE’S NOT HUMAN?!

OR A ROBOT?!

WOAH WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WYM THAT’S THE COMPLICATED ANSWER

Is he here to bring the meridian down?! Is this about the SOVEREIGNS????

AWE DID HE BLOW US A KISS

I kinda like him🤭

[demigoddessqueens]

A CR soulmate ask. Alternate universe. Reader winds up with two soulmate marks one for Percy and one for Vax. Reader heads to Gilmore for help. What conversation takes place between them and part two, Reader throws herself in the way of an attack meant for both Percy and Vax and they discover the marks what happens in the fall out?

The whiplash I got from this request!

Author’s Note: this will take place during EP1 of this new season, Chroma Conclave attack

Angst, fluff, Percy and Vax need SNUGGLES AND CUDDLES not struggles, ✨everything goes wrong🔥

Before setting out to destroy the Blue Dragon, you had set off with Vax and Pike to inquire Gilmore on how to defeat. Though an answer seemed better than nothing, Vax and Pike were brief in their visit. Except for you.

“Gilmore, care to spare some seconds? I wanted to ask you about these.” He nodded at you, gesturing to come forward.

You rolled up the sleeves of your chain mail, arms and wrists bare. Two marks you bore that left you searching any town or shop to explain.

“A rare sight indeed, my dear.” He gently held onto your wrists as he explained the meaning behind each one. Two for the souls who made the halves of your heart. Though both were COMPLETE opposite of each other, they loved you just the same.

You listened intensely, looking forward to potentially meeting them in your journeys.

The smoke and ash that surrounded Emon choked your lungs. Amidst it all, you glanced down at the marks on your wrist. A source of comfort now despair amidst the carnage. You didn’t want to think if your soulmates had—.

Air burned in your chest as you kept up with Vax, Percy and Pike. Screaming, calling to each to see if you hadn’t separated.

The one dragon that secreted acid from its tattered wings crept closer by the second. Getting too closer for your liking, you saw a wave about to crash against both of the men.

In a brief flash, you pushed them both out of the way. For a split second, you saw the marks on their wrists when you shoved them away. But not before a blood curdling scream was ripped from your throat as everything went dark.

For the few seconds you were unconscious, it felt like one too many of eternities for them.

Both men separately knew of their own markings, but to see you bear both as Pike healed you within an inch of your life?

Miraculously, you quickly came to before getting dragged away again to safety.

Later that evening, within the comforting walls of Whitestone, you were pulled into such a tight embrace you would have thought your remaining breaths would be stolen away.

Percy’s voice was as calm as he could manage, emotion threatening to unravel at any second.

“Don’t ever do that to us again. Do you understand me?!”

“Percy wha—what do you mean?”

Vax’s voice interjected next, laced thick with emotion.

“No you don’t understand. I—We saw them. It. Your markings when you passed out.”

“I don’t ever want to hear you scream like that again.”

You hugged them both back, though not as tightly as they could manage.

“Ok…ok, ok. I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

[intcritus]

/rattles my cage/ Emon leaving mana messages all over the place in his travels for Vega to find if he ever ventures after them or around the same parts in the future. Some holding gifts of their discoveries, grimoires he found in locations etc.

best believe he followed after them, because he just...emon is bestie. if no one else understands him, emon always will. and he cherished every gift, every grimoire, but the mana messages always bought a smile to his lips. sometimes he found himself wanting to leave mana messages if emon and the hero party doubled back but he's never been good with words like emon, so he just kept the words and gifts close to his heart.

but also vega catching up with them, but not announcing his presence because he's so fucking proud of emon. but also him just making sure to replenish emon and his party's rations secretly, but also leaving healing tinctures around to be found by the party. he's quietly watching over his bestie ( lowkey not wanting to intrude but also just being a gremlin to everyone else ). lmao can you imagine emon just keep seeing a black cat that just drops off vital things for him ?

[saphirered]

hi! i loved your partner in crime fic for vax, do you think you could do another part? its so good ❤️❤️

This turned into some tooth rotting fluff. Hope you enjoy! 😘

Vax has not slept all night. Sleep would not find him but not for his usual reasons. No nightmares haunt him, neither do intrusive thoughts or at least no negative ones. Despite of his lack of sleep he is not tired. He’s wide awake and buzzing. He can’t seem to sit still. He has to fiddle with something; the button of his shirt, his daggers, the braids beads in his hair, his own fingers. He has to be in constant motion to get rid of these jitters. He feels alive in a way he’s not felt in a very long time. He feels like the missing part of him is just within reach. It is. You are. He’s meeting you for lunch. He hasn’t seen you in years and while he dared not dream he always wished your paths would cross again. He thought about how that meeting might go and compared to how your first meeting in years went, he could never have imagined. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. Though far too much time passed between your last goodbye and your reunion and it ached his heart more than he’d like to admit, when you’re there it feels as if not a day has passed at all. Everything feels so much easier, so unburdened and so natural, he longs for more and so the mere thought of you, of seeing you again this afternoon, it fills him with energy and joy. Some might say it’s entirely out of character for him. 

Seeing you at that ball, or rather your illusions, your nimble fingers making bank and your keen eyes ever precise. He’d spot you from a mile away, just like you would him. To think Vax tried to get out of his attendance to the ball, he doesn’t dare think of what might have been had he succeeded or slipped into the shadows. He’d have been none the wiser. He’d not be pacing in his room deciding on his outfit and the place to go. He’d not have been fumbling with that jewelled necklace you gave him. “My treat” you’d said for your lunch date. He doesn’t want to get rid of that necklace. It’s the only thing that tells him this wasn’t some figment of his imagination for his mind to cope with a terribly dull evening, or worse a dream entirely. If this is a dream he doesn’t want to wake up. The gold and gems remind him that you’re real and this did happen and he is about to meet you soon. Another hour passes and he asks his sister for some gold instead. She asks too many questions. He gives too little answers. 

It didn’t take you much digging. Vox Machina; heroes of the realm. Everyone knew where they lived, their keep in Emon. It was no secret. Dragon slayers, saviours of Whitestone. You’d slept soundly after last night; with your pockets full of gold, your heart filled with warmth and your mind entirely engulfed by the rogue you thought you might never meet again when your lives separated. Your dreams were just that; filled with memories of the past, and some figments of what could be. You don’t think you’ve smiled this much in more time than you’d like to admit. You’ve felt the exhilarating thrill of a big heist and a prosperous job but no amount of adrenaline or satisfaction fills you with the thrill of reuniting with him again. Vax will forever hold a special place in your heart. It just happens to be the piece that makes you feel so alive. You are grateful for his return even if it leaves a little blow to your pride that even after all these years, he’s still able to see right through your disguises and deception. In reality you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

You embraced the dreams until it was time to get ready. You’d go out without your armour, without all the tools of your trade, save for some you could hide beneath your specially chosen attire. Pockets are a must. It’s stylish but not too fancy. It’s light and leaves for full range of movement in case you need to run and dive and jump and hide. You’ll have no trouble blending into any crowd. When you said you’d meet Vax for lunch and let him pick the place, you didn’t think to ask the occasion so you’d play it safe. You haven’t put this much thought in a look for anything other than a job that required it. It feels good to do so without that pressure and leaves you feeling giddy inside. It’s time to go and thus with a skip in your step you wander down to that keep in Emon. 

He didn’t notice you yet when you approached. He was too caught up in conversation with a gnome dressed in purples; Scanlan Shorthalt you’d learned because how could you not after the ball. You slow your step and stick to the shadows a bit more. Vax’ back is turned to you and the gnome doesn’t notice you until you step out of the shadows. To which his expression changes to a sly and charming one. He all but pushes Vax aside which results in him turning on his heels. You have no eyes for Scanlan and do not even hear his blatant flirt. You just stare into those dark eyes of your half-elf and smile. His lips are parted and he seems entirely caught off guard, as if the realisation only hit now, as if he only now perceived the previous events as true. You approach. 

“Hey there, stranger.” You say. Your voice makes him melt and forget his own name. You’re perfect. Your presence, your radiance, it's all just perfect. You are the epitome of perfect. He forgets to breathe until his friend hits him in the knee and pulls him back to reality. 

“Well aren’t you-“ The gnome begins but is cut off by Vax who quickly puts a hand over his mouth to silence him. Scanlan protests and his next words are muffled but Vax cares not because he notices how you cover a laugh behind your hand. 

“No we’re not doing this. Ow! Did you just-“ Scanlan bit his hand. The gnome bit his bloody hand! He lets go and shakes the shock more than pain as Scanlan reverts to his flirtatious twat self. What he didn’t expect was for you to step closer and take his hand between both of yours. You inspect the mark, though there barely is any in the first place and chuckle when you bring it to your lips and kiss it gently. 

“Better now?” You raise an eyebrow and earn an offended gasp from the gnome. You acknowledge him with a wink and by some miracle catches the hint which adjusts hit attitude. 

“I’m sure Vax feels much better now, if only for your presence, hopeless love sick puppy he is. You’re too good for him but okay I’ll relent and sing the songs of the heartbroken.” Vax softly kicks Scanlan as if to say ‘piss off’ and the gnome needs not be told twice but it would not be Scanlan Shorthalt if he did not sing some stupid song to prove a point. While Vax does not doubt your observational skills, he offers you his arm and guides you along the road, away from the singing bastard. 

“You don’t think I’m ready for a proper introduction yet? Think I’ll leave a bad impression? Think they won’t approve?” You laugh noting the speed of your walk. Vax slows down and so you do as well. Together arm in arm you walk. 

“It’s more I’m afraid you’ll be the one to run after meeting them.” He laughs and pushes aside the visual of you being introduced to his friends; his found family. He’d love to have you there. He’d love for you to meet them and be part of that collective. He’d love to keep you around but he also wants to be careful. He doesn’t want to push you or move too fast. And that aside, it’s probably best to make introductions slowly and one by one because let’s be real, Vox Machina can be a lot to deal with. At least you already know his sister who will definitely be upset with him for hoarding you for himself. She’ll also undoubtedly be looped in my Scanlan and be able to put together the pieces on her own. Another reason he wants to get away from the keep and into Emon proper. Less chances of her hunting the both of you down. 

Together you wander the streets, sharing stories from your time apart. Many things have changed, even though it all feels the same, all these things just make him love you more. From the little details about your multiple prison escapes and heists to his mercenary work and dealings with the Slayer’s Take and Myriad. You did give him a good scolding for the latter. He appreciates your care. You point out all the mistakes in your flawed plans that got you caught. You laugh about it too. These stories you share with each other, they only nail home the fact you were able to pick up right where you left off. But for Vax it also leaves a lingering feeling. He’s missed so much, so much he wished he could have been part of. He mourns what could have been. What if you’d joined them? What if you came along on these adventures? Would you have been part of Vox Machina with them now? Would your lives have ended elsewhere? He can’t begin to imagine simply because none of it leads here to the now where you laugh at his poor attempts of a joke, and point out the valuables on some of the rich assholes wandering around claiming you’d do a better job at stealing them than him. 

You make it to the market square of the Cloudtop District. The city is lively and bustling. People go about their daily business as much as they are sneaking around. Especially here. The beauty of the upper class district is that it hides many treats of varying kinds from delicious foods to pouches full of coin and jewels aplenty but also the latest gossip and secrets. Now Vax doesn’t care much for the ongoings of the upper class, but he knows you took plenty of joy in it, whether valuable information to sell or exploit or simply because of the sheer ridiculousness of it. He’s had a good laugh with you in the past about the affairs of others and their terrible attempts at hiding them. Here is no different. He watches as your ears perk and your eyes shimmer like those damned gemstones these rich assholes care so much about. Walking by the vendors Vax picks up an array of snacks from savoury to sweet, cold to hot and some drinks too. Arms full you sit down at a bench in the square with perfect view of the people. 

“The best places here don’t have the best view for people like us. And I think the food out here is better too. We can go to a place we’d actually fit in after if you want. It’s every bit as rowdy and with plenty of gambling games to go around.” He explains and offers you some candied fruits. Your eyes spark with mischievous glee.

“Well I do love the sound of that.” You pop a piece of fruit in your mouth and inconspicuously point as you lean in closer to whisper. “Lady with the blue scarf.” Vax raises an eyebrow. 

“What about her?” Of course you notice something he doesn’t but then he takes a closer look and remembers what you taught him, the things to look out for. Fondly he smiles when he notices the lady’s clothes are plain but too well made for anyone of passible average standards even in this district and the way she moves, how she tries to stay out of sight but can’t be bothered to sneak around because of lack of skill or the mere thought of being spotted by acquaintances. Then he notes she seems particularly friendly with one of the merchants. Stays around and talks far longer than any customer, and wanders to come back around again every so often. Then there’s the way the merchant looks at her. He supposes it must be very much the same way Vax looks at you. 

“I think her spouse would pay handsomely for your expertise. Don’t you think?” He bumps your shoulder when you chuckle. You bump back and steal another piece of fruit but right from his grasp this time. 

“I was going to eat that.” Vax deadpans with the same fake exasperation he’s only reserved for his sister in the past years. He picks up another piece which you steal too, though you don’t eat it. Instead you bring it to his lips. He gives you a look but obliges and lets you feed the piece to him. 

“There there, all is well again. Now we’re even?” You tap his chest and he grabs your hand giving you a look only a thief catching onto a scam could. 

“You think stealing my food twice and giving back a piece makes us even?” You fake a pout and you hold each other’s gazes, waiting for the other to relent. You break first.

“Okay okay. Fine. I taught you too well.” You pull back your hand to cross your arms and raise your chin staring out front of you. Vax just kisses your cheek and turns your face back to him. He stares at you and whatever devious little plan you’d been cooking up, the one he can see in your eyes melts away as you just stare at him with such love and affection he cannot begin to fathom. You purse your lips ever so slightly. 

“Oh and now you want a kiss too?” Vax’ lips are frustratingly close yet not close enough. He keeps it that way much to your dismay. He’s playing with you. You suppose it’s fair game. 

“I can offer compensation.” You speak and the way you say it makes him melt but he doesn’t show it just yet. 

“I’m sure we can come to an understanding.” You uncross your arms, and let one hand slide up his chest and rest right over his sternum. “Won’t be cheap.” He adds when you once again try to lean in. 

“Name your price.” He doesn’t say another word and simply presses his lips to yours, soft at first in the sweetest most longing kiss you’ve ever had. The kiss turns slightly more feverish until you hear the clearing of some throats and a scoff and you can’t contain your giggles. You lean your forehead against his, cup his face and peck his lips once more. 

“So this place you had in mind? Is it less opposed to displays of affection?” You smile and Vax just gets up, offers you his hand and together you leave the Cloudtop far behind, ignorant of the looks you’re getting from the inquisitive assholes. You couldn’t care less and maybe they could learn a thing or two. Social stigmas be damned. You run to the streets onto your next adventure but not without diving into a side alley every so often to catch your breath and share another moment of privacy, as much as one can in Emon that is. Lunch is the furthest thing from your minds. Neither of you can be bothered to care. 

[waltwhitmansbeard]

chapter three

She throws herself into her work. It’s all she can think to do. It’s a hard pivot from the checked-out mess she’s been these past months, but if waking before the sun and working until she passes out long after it sets is what it takes to not think about what is barreling down the pike at her, then that’s what she’ll do. 

And there is work to be done: Pyrah is still more or less in shambles after Thordak’s devastation, and with their neighbors in Vasselheim suffering such public demolition of their own, no one is paying much attention to the tiny druid village in the middle of nowhere. Closer to home, the people of Zephrah are starting to chafe under the pressure of the countless refugees that found their way to the Summit Peaks after that reanimated titan corpse ransacked half of Vasselheim; the druids of the Abundant Terrace sent hundreds of fleeing citizens through tree trunks during the siege, and a good number of them ended up here, far from their homes that have since been destroyed. 

Then there’s the matter of the Council. Word spreads quickly that the Voice of the Tempest is no longer catatonic in her bedroom, and it doesn’t take long before communications start coming from Emon requesting her presence. Keyleth knows what they want. She doesn’t want to give to them. So she adds it to the pile of Things She Will Not Acknowledge and pushes on. 

Everywhere she goes, ravens follow her. It’d be funny, if humor were a thing she was capable of these days. They circle above as she walks through town and perch outside the nearest window of whatever room she’s in. They’re silent, most of the time, until she’s been up too late or gone too long without eating, at which point she gets a rumbling caw of reproach. 

Fuck him. Just absolutely fuck him—ravens? Babysitting her wherever she goes? What the shit is this? Everyone wants her to move on, to heal, to get over it, but she’s carrying a dead man’s baby and being haunted by birds who don’t approve of the way she’s taking care of herself and the fucking Council won’t get off her back—is this healing? 

If her neighbors find the sudden influx of black birds in Zephrah unsettling, they don’t say anything about it. Rather, she notices a small uptick in visitors to the little shrine to the Raven Queen constructed less than a year ago, the one Keyleth has yet to go back to. She can’t imagine what they’re doing there—Zephrah isn’t exactly a religious town—but even though absolutely everything grates on her nerves these days, she can’t deny the begrudging appreciation that at least the work he put into making that thing isn’t going to waste. 

So she and her ravens go to work, supervising the construction of makeshift housing as the refugees wait for their homes to be repaired in Vasselheim and organizing the collaboration between Zephrah, Vesrah, and Terrah to deliver aid to Pyrah. She goes to meetings and stays perfectly on task, and when she’s done she goes home and accepts whatever work will occupy the biggest possible chunk of her brain. She wears loose clothes, even though she’s only just starting to show, and she figures out a script she can follow to avoid answering questions with any kind of substance. She affixes her face into something neutral, pleasant, even, and at night, she falls asleep in a bed that feels cavernous, suffocating and cold. 

She survives. It is what she is so very good at, after all.

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