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shadowofmoths · 5 years

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honey don’t feed me (i will come back)

Vax'ildan is fucked. He didn't think before rushing in to confront the Briarwoods, and now he has to deal with the consequences. Percy...helps. (6.6k, Perc’ildan Vampire AU)

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Vax’ildan is fucked. He knows that—he’s man enough to admit when he’s made a mistake, and this—well. This is a big one. He had been reckless, and foolish, and everything that Vex would no doubt accuse him of being if he somehow managed to see her again. But he isn’t counting on that. Vax is going to die here. That, or something worse. Delilah Briarwood stands before him, eyes dark and flashing. Vax lets out an involuntary hiss of pain through his teeth as her husband’s incisors dig needle-sharp into his neck. Unwilling to lose face in what may very well be his final moments, Vax flashes a smirk, albeit a weak one, at his assailants. He can feel his blood beginning to drain from his body as Sylas feeds, feels his collarbone beginning to bruise and go numb where the vampire’s teeth cut into him.

“Man,” Vax laughs, slightly hysterically. “You guys are into some weird shit.”

Neither Briarwood reacts, save for Delilah’s dark gaze somehow growing darker. Vax closes his eyes. My sister is going to kill me, he thinks. He can no longer feel Sylas’s fangs bearing into him, numbness spreading through his right side. As his thoughts begin to grow hazy, he thinks of his family—of Vex, young, sitting with their mother; he sees her older and striding through the forest as though it knows her by name. He remembers Keyleth, beautiful, her red hair like a halo in the fading sunlight. He sees Pike, glowing and gleaming in battle, Grog bloody and boisterous at her side; Scanlan smiles, lively and taunting. He thinks of Percy. Remembers his laughter, his anger—his face streaked with grease and soot as he emerges from hours locked in his workshop. Remembers how his face turned hard-set and stony at the mention of the monsters that took his family.

“Sorry, Freddie.”

And the world goes dark around him.

What Vax doesn’t see is this: Vox Machina bursts into the Briarwoods’s chamber, sees him limp and bloody in Sylas’s grasp. His sister screams—not piercing, but powerful; a rage to rival Grog’s. She unleashes a volley of arrows into the vampire and his wife as Keyleth and Scanlan back her up with their own attacks. The Briarwoods sustain heavy damage before fleeing, Delilah ripping open a tear in reality and pulling Sylas through, leaving Vax’s body behind. Scanlan skids to a halt at Vax’s side, summoning what remains of his energy to sing a song of healing, shaky words replacing his trademark confidence. His healing does nothing. Vax does not stir. Scanlan pulls the collar of Vax’s tunic to the side, sees the bruise on his clavicle, mottled blue and purple—sees the puncture wounds. Vax’ildan isn’t bleeding.

“We need to get him to a temple,” Scanlan says, voice tight. Without another word, Keyleth shifts, skin rippling with white fur, and Minxie nudges Vax onto her back with her nose. With characteristic gentleness, she plods over to the door of the chamber where Vex stands. Vex does not appear to be moving, remaining frozen in the doorway. Her gaze is vacant, unfocused. But Keyleth notices her shaking, sees the white-knuckle grip she has on her bow, the tears threatening to spill from the corner of her eyes. Keyleth nudges Vex with her nose, makes a soft purring sound as she does. Almost absently, Vex’s right hand uncurls from a fist and comes to rest on Keyleth’s head. Scanlan comes up on Vex’s other side, pries the bow from her grasp, and takes her free hand in his.

“Come on,” he says. Vex doesn’t meet his eyes, even as he and Keyleth begin leading her out of the Briarwoods’s room. “We’ll swing by and grab Trinket, and I’ll message the others and tell them where to meet us, okay?” He gets no response. “Vex?” “Alright.” She doesn’t make eye contact, and her voice shakes. They keep moving. None of the healers at the temple of Sarenrae know how to help Vax. Father Tristan, at once gentle and severe, examines him, face grim. “If his attackers were what you think they were,” he sighs. “I’m not sure that there’s anything we can do.” He breaks eye contact to stare at the stone floor, mouth pressed into a thin line. “I couldn’t tell you for sure, but it’s possible, certainly that he may…wake up.” Vex—who had been absent through the cleric’s examination, pressing herself against Trinket as though she wanted to disappear into his fur—blinks back into the present. She fixes Tristan with her steely, calculating stare. “He could what?” “Well, knowing only the—the myths, the rumors about these creatures…it is not impossible that whatever they did to him could, ah, have some sort of necrotic element attached to it.” “He could be a vampire,” Vex spits, harsh and blunt. Tristan sighs again. “Yes.”

They take Vax home. Keyleth, shifted back into her half-eleven form, allows Grog to carry him. Vex continues to lean heavily against Trinket, Keyleth holding her hand and speaking to her softly. Scanlan, feeling unusually restless, splits off from the group to figure out how to get a message to Pike. Percy is silent. The walk home is grim, a pressing sadness hanging over the group. When they arrive back at Greyskull Keep, Grog and Vex lay Vax in his room, and Vex posts herself as guard outside. Percy retreats to his workshop, refusing to say a word or look anyone in the eye. Grog, Keyleth, and Scanlan find themselves downstairs, drinking in relative silence until Grog and Scanlan collapse asleep on the table. Keyleth gives a small smile and leaves them there, darting back to the kitchens to swipe a loaf of bread and some other simple foods. By the time she has prepared this simple meal, the sun has long since set, and the moon is high and bright in the dark sky. Keyleth brings the plate of food up for Vex’ahlia, finds her still sitting against Vax’s door. She wouldn’t have thought Vex had moved at all, save for the tear tracks on her face. In her pale and still-trembling hands she holds one of Vax’s daggers, flipping it absently over and over. “Hey, Vex,” Keyleth keeps her voice deliberately soft, standing several feet away. To her credit, Vex’ahlia only flinches slightly. She gives a brief, toneless murmur of acknowledgment as, anxious, Keyleth sinks down next to her. “I, uh, I brought you food,” she says, setting the plate down next to Vex. As soon as her hands are free, Keyleth begins to fidget anxiously, fingers twisting around each other and into her hair. Vex’ahlia seems to break from her own headspace for a moment as she notices Keyleth’s hands moving frantically as she tries to think of something to say. Wordlessly, she passes Keyleth the dagger. The druid stills immediately, running her fingers slowly over the cool metal. Vex’ahlia breathes out, shakily, as Keyleth sits next to her in silence. “You should—you should eat something,” she says after a beat, gesturing to the plate she brought up for Vex. “I’m not hungry.” “I know. B-but, Vex, you can’t help him if you’re not taking care of yourself, too.” Keyleth doesn’t make eye contact, her fidgeting becoming more agitated. Vex falls silent again, her face twisting into a grimace. The silence lays heavy over the hallway before Vex breaks it.

“Fuck you,” she sighs. There’s no real venom in her voice, despite her expression, just a deep sort of exhaustion in her tone. Keyleth stutters for a moment, tapping the dagger rhythmically against the armor on her chest. “I—sorry,” Keyleth trails off, voice lifting as though she’s asking a question. “No,” Vex’ahlia sighs, leaning heavy against the wall and slumping her shoulders. “No, you’re right, I just don’t like it,” “Yeah.” Keyleth sounds as tired as Vex feels. Relenting, the ranger tips her head, leaning on Keyleth’s shoulder. Without pause, Keyleth tucks the dagger into her belt and brings her hand up to card it through Vex’s hair, which already was coming loose from its braid. They lapse back into silence once again, but despite their exhaustion the lull feels comfortable, the two finding safety and sympathy with each other. “I’m so tired, Keyleth,” Vex says eventually, her eyes having slid shut as Keyleth combs ever so gently through her hair. “I, uh, I’m fine to take watch if you need to rest—“ “It’s not that kind of tired.” “I know.” Keyleth pauses, her hand hovering nervously above Vex’s hair. “The—the offer stands, though. I’ll be here.” Vex smiles into Keyleth’s shoulder, reaching up to grab one of her hands and threading their fingers together. “Thank you.” She gives Keyleth’s hand a brief squeeze, feeling a brief rush of affection go through her when the druid reciprocates. The two sit there, leaning against Vax’s door and each other, until Vex’ahlia falls asleep. Keyleth can feel it when Vex’s breathing evens out, and sits there for as long as she can before she gives up her own sleep as a lost cause. Very, very gently, she moves Vex’s head from her shoulder, laying her carefully on the floor. There is no movement from the half-elf, and Keyleth sighs in relief before going to fetch her a pillow and a blanket. She tucks the pillow under Vex’s head, and then tucks Vax’s dagger under the pillow before laying the blanket over her sleeping friend. With a soft smile, Keyleth leaves, slipping into her Minxie form as she heads to her own room. There, curling up on a cushion she keeps by her hearth for this very purpose, she finally sinks into sleep.

Vex’ahlia dreams. She is home, in Byroden, sitting on her mother’s lap. A fire crackles in the hearth, and her mother sings softly to her and Vax as she braids their hair in turn. Vex is warm and content, and she leans against her brother, taking his small hand in hers. Everything is soft and lovely, Vex feeling a safety deep within her that she hasn’t felt for ages. And then—her mother screams, horrified. The warmth drains from Vax’s touch as he goes deathly cold in her grasp—his face begins to crack and shatter like fragile porcelain. The fire in the hearth roars, licking up Vex’s back, as it becomes the maw of a great red dragon who grins razor-sharp and swallows her family whole. As fire takes the house, she hears her brother calling out for her. Vex wakes with a start, breath quick and heart racing. There is no fire, no dragon, and she relaxes for a moment before she notices one thing that did not stay confined to her dream—her brother is still calling out for her.

“Vex? Vex’ahlia?” A gentle tapping accompanies the voice from the other side of the heavy wooden door she is leaning against. Vex is awake in an instant, returning suddenly and painfully to reality.

“Vax?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounds desperate.

“Oh, thank the gods,” he breathes. Her brother. She can picture him so clearly, knows the way he would have slumped against the door in relief. Before Vex is even really aware of it, there are tears streaming down her face. Of their own accord, her hands go rifling through her pockets, producing the ring of keys she had locked Vax’s door with earlier that evening. Despite her violently shaking hands, she manages to unlock the door, and Vax has the sense to step back as she bursts in, heedless of consequences as she all but tackles him to the ground. Her arms flung around his neck, she sobs helplessly, face buried in his shoulder. Immediately, Vax’s own arms come up around her midsection, pulling her closer.

“Vax,” she chokes. “Vax’ildan, we thought you were dead, we thought—I thought—Vax,” She can feel Vax’s own tears, damp as they fall on her hair.

“Vex’ahlia,” he breathes. “I’m here, Vex. I’ve got you, I’m here—“

“I came in that room, Vax, and you were dead, no one could do anything, I—“ she cuts herself off, sniffling into Vax’s shoulder as he rubs soothing patterns on her back.

“Hey,” he says, voice gentle. “It’s going to take a lot more than some pasty bastard in an ugly cloak to keep me from coming back to you, alright? I’m here, Vex. I’m—I’m okay.”

“Okay. Okay.” Vex breathes out, slow and steadying, trying to wipe some of the tears from her face. She lets herself hold on to Vax for a long moment before she speaks again. “Are you really okay, though? How…how do you feel?” Vax grimaces.

“Cold, mostly.” He laughs, quiet and humorless. Impulsive, Vex reaches up and cups his cheek in her hand, pushing back his upper lip with her thumb. Vax sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, hissing softly as Vex brushes up against a fang.

“I’d really rather you didn’t, Stubby.” This earns him a searching, scrutinizing gaze from his sister, as she looks for some sort of answer in his dark eyes.

“Alright,” she says finally, soft as she shifts her hand to run it through Vax’s hair instead. “Will you let me fix your hair, at least? It’s a mess.” Without pause, Vax turns around, pulling his hair out of the loose, half-up ponytail it had been in and passing the tie to his sister. He settles comfortably against her knees as Vex, unwilling to stand up to find a comb, resorts to pulling her fingers through his hair until it’s more manageable before twisting it into a loose, simple braid.

“I thought braiding hair was my thing,” Vax jokes, and Vex laughs.

“Hush, you, I’m trying to be nice.”

“And you’re doing a wonderful job of it, sister.” Sensing his sarcastic tone, Vex sighs, allowing them to lapse back into silence until Vax breaks it again.

“How is everyone doing?”

“I don’t honestly know. Keyleth seems okay, she brought me food and stayed with me while I was keeping watch outside. It helped, she helped keep me from falling apart—” At that, Vax makes a soft, wounded noise, but allows Vex to continue. “—but she still seemed more restless than usual. Other than that…I don’t honestly know. I haven’t been focused, really. I sort of…went away, for a while. Just while I was sitting out there, it felt like I just…left. Like all of this was happening to someone else instead of me.” She finishes the braid and ties it off, just as Vax turns around and pulls her in close again, arms around her neck. He is far too cold, but Vex does her best to ignore it, allowing herself to be held.

“I’m so, so sorry, Vex’ahlia,” he murmurs, and Vex knows too well the pain in his voice—its the same pain she has been holding onto all these hours. “I was reckless, and foolhardy, and all of it, and I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” Vex pulls back, taking his face in her hands and looking straight into his eyes, open and earnest.

“You are a stupid, impulsive, foolish man, Vax, and you did a ridiculously thoughtless thing today.” There is a pause, and Vax nods, brow furrowing. “And I love you very, very much. And I forgive you. But if you ever try something like that again, I’ll kill you. Because you’re—you’re all I have. I couldn’t ever be without you. Alright?” Tears are shining in her brothers eyes when she finishes.

“Yes—yes to all of it. I was stupid, and I love you, and I promise I’ll be more careful. I promise I won’t leave you. Never again, Vex’ahlia, I swear it.” He covers her hands with his and leans forward, tilting their foreheads together. Vex gives a laugh, verging on hysterical.

“We’re going to be okay,” she tells him. When he grins back at her, tears still in his eyes, she can’t help but notice his fangs.

“It’s you and me, Stubby. Always.” There is a brief moment of quiet as they breathe in unison, leaning against each other as the stress of the day sinks into them.

“I’m scared of this,” Vax whispers. “Whatever this is. Whatever…whatever I am.”

“It’s you and me, brother,” Vex echoes. “We’ll figure it out.” Vax smiles, and though Vex still sees his tension there is relief there, too. As they realize they have nothing left to say, and as the night grows closer to morning, they get ready to sleep. Though the twins have grown used to sleeping separately as of late, they know without. having. to speak that Vex is staying. The two pull all the pillows and blankets off of Vax’s bed, arranging them on top of the rug that he has in front of his fireplace. With a fire crackling in the hearth, the twins fall asleep together in a way they haven’t in years, in the way they used to sleep at home in Byroden—curled into mirroring half-moons, facing each other. Vax clutches his sister’s hand, holding it to his chest. He doesn’t sleep, even as Vex drifts off, filled with some unidentifiable restlessness. He watches her, tries to match her slow breathing, but its a fruitless endeavor. For the few remaining hours before sunrise he simply lays still, trying and failing to will himself to sleep until the sun begins to beam over the horizon.

When Vex wakes up, Vax is not beside her. Immediately, she is hit with the dread that the night prior was a dream, that he truly is dead, and she sits up with a racing heart which only quiets when she hears a voice from behind her.

“Morning, Stubby.” Vex nearly wants to cry from relief.

“Morning, brother. You’re up early.” She swivels, stretching her sore back, and looks to Vax where he’s perched on his bed. He winces.

“Didn’t sleep,” he admits.

“Because you’re worried, or because of…?”

“Either. Both, I don’t know, Vex’ahlia—” He tugs at the end of his loose braid nervously. “I have no fucking idea whats happening to me, I don’t know what to expect, I’m counting the hours until I turn into some bloodthirsty fucking beast—”

“Vax, breathe.” He does, shaky. “ I promised that we’d figure it out, and I meant it. But right now you’re exhausted. And don’t give me that look, you dick, you’re my brother, I can tell. So you just…stay here, and sleep, or at least try to rest or…or something, and I’ll go talk to the others, and we’ll figure this out, alright?” When Vax sighs, she can see the tension in his frame. “Alright?” she repeats.

“Alright! Alright, asshole, have it your way.” He flashes her a brief, playful smile at her as she heads for the door.

“Get some rest, Vax.”

“You’re younger than me, Vex’ahlia!”

With a light laugh, Vex descends the stairs, tugging at her earring to rouse the rest of Vox Machina for a team meeting. She finds herself in the dining room, where Scanlan and Grog are passed out face-down on the table, and sighs, sitting across from them. They wake up soon enough, hangover but aware. Keyleth, having received Vex’s message, comes stumbling into the dining room soon after, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her hair is sticking up wildly, and Vex almost smiles—she is adorable. But rather than acknowledge that, she shakes her head and gets down to business.

“Vax’ildan is awake,” she says, abruptly and without preamble. An immediate silence hits the room. Keyleth’s eyes go as wide as saucers, while Grog’s brow furrows in evident confusion.

“He is alive. Or, he’s, well, he’s…something. He is awake, anyway, and he’s sane, and if any of you so much as thinks as laying a hand on him just because of what happened I will have an arrow through your heart before you can even say ‘Jenga.’ Are we clear?” The three in front of her nod, clearly intimidated. “Lovely,” Vex says. Her smile is tense. “Any questions?”

Keyleth nods, raising a meek hand. “C-can I see him?”

“He’s resting, right now,” Vex tells her, voice finally gentle. “But yes, just…give him a couple hours, maybe?”

Keyleth nods again. She gives Vex a small smile. “I’m glad he’s—better.”

This time, when Vex smiles, it’s genuine.

When Keyleth knocks on Vax’s door, the sun is just beginning to set. Golden light spills into the rooms, peeking through Vax’s curtains. Keyleth notices, in spite of herself, how Vax sticks to the shadows of the chamber.

“Vax? Are you awake?” She knows that he is, can see the dark glint of his eyes, but she asks anyways.

“Keyleth?”

She smiles, soft. “Yes. May I come in?”

“Of course,” Vax says. Keyleth can’t see him, as dark as the room is, but she can imagine him smiling crookedly at her nonetheless. She enters the room and pushes the door shut behind her, sitting at the edge of the bed. Vax, for his part, has pushed himself into the darkest corner of the room, hugging his knees to his chest. He is nearly hidden, darkness shrouding him, his dark hair and black cloak helping camouflage him. There is a brief, terrible silence before Keyleth speaks. “How are you feeling?” She winces immediately. “That’s—that was a stupid question.”

Vax barks a laugh. “It wasn’t. It’s not. I’m, well, I’m tired, and I’m a lot colder than I’m used to. But I’m fine, Kiki, really.”

Keyleth squints at him, distrusting. “You’re not.”

“Do we have to talk about this?” He asks, a sort of misery in his voice. “Are you going to walk away from me, Vax?”

Vax sighs, dropping his head onto his knees. “No,” he tells her. “But really, I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Then what can I do, Vax?” Keyleth asks. Despite her words, she is sincere, voice gentle rather than exasperated.

“Will you—“ Vax cuts himself off. “Could you come here, maybe?”

Keyleth does, and as she slides down the wall to sit next to Vax, he practically throws himself into her arms. He tucks his head under her chin, his arms going around his waist. Keyleth lets out a little, shocked, oh! of surprise, but lets it happen. After a moment, she begins to comb her fingers through Vax’s hair, while her other hand rubs soothing circles on his back. It takes her a long moment to realize he’s crying.

“Oh, Vax,” she sighs.

“Keyleth,” he murmurs, voice thick. “Keyleth, I’m fucking terrified.” Silence falls as Keyleth waits for him to continue. “You know what…you know what those bastards have done. Those monsters. They destroyed Percy’s family, and who knows how many others—how long until I do the same? I can’t hurt you, Keyleth, I can’t hurt any of you, I—“

“Vax.” Keyleth’s voice is quiet, but clear. “You are a good man, Vax’ildan. T-the fact that you don’t want to hurt anyone—that’s what counts. The Briarwoods are evil, horrible people. But you…you would go to the ends of the world for the people you care about. That’s the difference, Vax. You could never be like them.”

Vax’s voice is weak; it cracks when he replies. “How can you know that?”

Keyleth’s bright eyes meet his, intense in a way she rarely is. “Because I know you, Vax’ildan.”

He looks away. “You can pretend all you want, but I do. We’re…we’re friends, Vax. I care about you. And I know you would never hurt any of us.”

Vax ducks his head, breathing shakily. “I don’t want to, Keyleth, I really don’t but after everything—Keyleth, you know what they did. You know what I could do. How can you trust me?”

“Don’t be an idiot, Vax.”

He laughs humorlessly. “That’s never been my strong suit.”

“You know what I can do,” she says. “You’ve seen my magic, you’ve seen me fight. You know that I can be dangerous. So why do you trust me?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Vax scoffs. “You would never use your abilities to hurt any of us—oh.” The realization hits him, and Keyleth smiles.

“Yeah.” She smiles. “See?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. The tension begins to leave him, slowly, and he leans against Keyleth. “Yeah. Thank you, Keyleth.”

Giving a soft hum, she tilts her head against his. “Of course, Vax.”

As soon as their team meeting had ended, Vex stormed down to Percy’s workshop. As far as anyone knew, he hadn’t left it since their return after the incident with the Briarwoods. No one had seen him, and Vex was sure he wasn’t eating or sleeping. She understood, to an extent. But she was tired, and if she couldn’t isolate herself, neither could he. So down to the workshop she went. Percy seemed not even to notice as she entered, until she slammed the door behind her.

“Percival.”

He flinches, startled. Even still, he doesn’t meet her eyes. He doesn’t respond.

“You can’t keep avoiding this.”

At that, he huffed a harsh laugh, continuing to work on some project that had left his face streaked with black powder.

“Well, I can certainly try,” he tells her.

“Bullshit, Percy. Do you think that we’re just going to let you stay here, isolated, working yourself to death?”

“Well, it’s worked so far.” His voice is tight, brittle.

“My brother died, and you’re going to blame me for—for taking a day to come down here, to try and get you out of this self-punishing spiral that you’re in? For all the good that that’s done, when you won’t even look at me, gods—”

“Vex, no, I didn’t mean—”

“Well, it’s what you said, Percival.”

Percy sighs, defeated.

“I…I’m sorry, Vex.” He drags his hands over his face, streaking it with even more soot. “Gods. I’m sorry.”

“Percy, you need to talk to us. Don’t leave us like this, please.” “Why?” Percy sounds exhausted, his voice weak.

“You’re our family. We love you. Ignoring us, it’s—it’s just going to hurt all of us.”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“Just talk to me. Talk to him, when you’re ready. Please.”

“I can’t talk to him, Vex. It’s my fault, what happened, I can’t—“ He shakes his head violently, pressing his fingers to his temple.

“Percy.” Something about Vex’s voice finally convinces Percy to make eye-contact. She looks wrecked, exhausted, but manages to maintain her quiet, intense composure anyway. “He blames himself too.”

Percy looks away.

“I’ll talk to him.”

It is well past sunset by the time Percy leaves his workshop, and the stars are beginning to peek out from the darkness. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone. Had he not promised Vex, he wouldn’t be. Despite taking the time to calm down in his workshop, he feels stretched-thin, on edge. Volatile. His knock on Vax’s door is hesitant—he wonders if Vax even hears it. Part of him hopes that he doesn’t.

“Come in,” Vax says. Percy has to resist the urge to bang his head against the door before he pushes it open.

The light in Vax’s room is dim and grey, making Vax look even paler than normal. The curtains have been thrown open, and the weak moonlight makes the shadows on his face stand out even more. Even in this lighting, Percy can see how exhausted Vax looks.

“Percy?” Vax blinks a few times, as if to clear his head.

Percy clears his throat, awkwardly. “H-hello.”

“What are you….” Vax trails off, unsure. Percy fidgets.

“I thought we should talk.”

Vax drags his hands down his face. His answering smile is wry and edges on sadness. “Alright.”

The door closes behind Percy as he steps into the room, gesturing at the foot of Vax’s bed. “Can I…?”

“Oh, yeah. Yes, go ahead.” Percy sits. His fingers twist anxiously, though he tries to hide his fidgeting as best he can. There is a long, tense silence, before Vax sighs.

“Why are you here, Percival?”

Percy ducks his head, as though trying to hide himself within the tall collar of his coat.

“Your sister—“

“Ah.” Vax smiles that humorless smile that Percy has so often seen from him. “Say no more, my friend. We can just not talk, and tell her that we did. Problem solved. Terribly sorry to be an inconvenience to you—”

“Vax’ildan.” The worried set of Percy’s shoulders shifts; he looks directly at Vax and Vax cannot find it in him to look away. Percy’s eyes are grey-blue and unyielding.

“Percival,” he teases, but Vax’s humor is not able to ease Percy’s gaze.

“I came in here,” Percy says, maintaining the now too-long eye contact. “Because your sister let me know that I was isolating myself. Some of the things that I said, well—evidently she thought it would do us both good to talk things out. So I am here because I trust your sister’s judgement.” He pauses, and his voice is low when he speaks again. “And…because I was worried about you.”

Vax makes a low sound at that, a hum trapped in the back of his throat. “I’m fine, Percival, I swear. No need to worry.”

“Somehow, Vax, I sincerely doubt that.”

“Why does everyone keep asking me about how I’m doing? How the fuck do you think I’m doing? Gods damn it, what do you want me to say, Percy? That I can’t sleep, day or night? That I’m completely fucking terrified that I’m going to lose control and hurt one of you? That I—” Vax’ildan cuts himself off abruptly, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“That you what?” It isn’t a good idea to push him, Percy thinks, but he does it anyway.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Vax.” Impulsive, Percy moves closer to him on the bed, and raises a hand to rest against Vax’s cheek. Vax’s eyes widen; he sucks in a sharp breath. “Tell me.” Vax’s eyes flutter shut, and Percy can feel the half-elf’s breath quicken as Percy brushes his thumb over his cheekbone.

“I’m…Percy…” He trails off, bringing his hand up to wrap around Percy’s wrist. Percy’s hand does not leave Vax’s face; when Vax’s eyes open, Percy’s bright eyes are still locked with his own. Vax’s breath hitches, stutters as Percy’s thumb brushes the corner of his mouth. “Percy, I could hurt you.”

“You couldn’t.” Percy can feel Vax’s shaky exhale against his wrist. “Vax, tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“Aside from the fact that I’m a vampire?” His voice hitches on the last word, as, in vain, Vax tries to dispel the strange energy of the room. Once again, humor is his last defense against emotional vulnerability. Abruptly, Percy pulls his hand away from Vax’s face, leaning back out of his space with an almost imperceptible sigh. Vax has to bite back a whine at the loss of contact.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Vax. I—I don’t know that this is getting us anywhere,” he shifts as if to leave, and Vax is reaching out for him before he can stop himself.

“Freddie, wait.” The nickname leaves him without thinking. When Percy looks back to him, there are tears shining in Vax’s eyes. “I’m just…I’m scared. I don’t trust myself around you.” His voice is soft, like he can barely bring himself to say it. Percy sits back down, hovering just on the edge of Vax’s space. Even though Percy doesn’t touch him, Vax’s anxiety quiets, somewhat.

“Why not, Vax?”

Vax shuts his eyes tightly. “My instincts have changed, Percy. I…the things I want…the way I want…”

“What do you want, Vax’ildan?” Percy’s voice has dropped, and Vax leans closer to catch his words.

“I’m hungry, Percy.” With the emphasis that he puts on the words, Percy immediately knows what he means. Even so, he leans further into Vax’s space. Their knees are touching. Percy is so near Vax that his nose almost brushes his cheek.

“Will you let me help you?” Percy asks, breaking the brief silence that seemed to stretch on for ages.

“You—you can’t mean that,” Vax chokes. Before he has finished speaking, Percy’s hand has found its way back to his cheek, fingers brushing across his cheekbone. Overwhelmed, Vax’s eyes fall shut, and Percy hums interestedly.

“I think you’ll find that I can,” he says, his smile audible in his voice. His fingers are so gentle on Vax’s face.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Percy.” Vax’s protests sound weak, even to his own ears. They are undermined by the very audible hitch in his breath as Percy’s thumb presses against his bottom lip.

“So you keep saying. Have you considered that I’m asking you to, Vax?” The warmth of Percy’s hand seems to have ignited Vax’s entire body.

“I am trying so hard,” he murmurs. “To have some amount of self-control here.”

“And I am trying so hard, my dear, to tell you that that isn’t necessary.”

Vax forces his eyes open, fixes Percy in his gaze. There is tension in the set of the half-elf’s face, but his eyes flash hungry and wanting. “I need you to promise me that you aren’t doing this just because you feel bad. Or out of some fucked-up sense of obligation, or self-punishment. I need to know why, Percy.” The human nods back.

“That’s perfectly reasonable.” Some of the tension leaves Vax. “I am not doing this just because I feel bad. What happened to you was…regrettable. But it is something I know you can manage. And, while some of me does feel responsible for what happened to you—getting you involved in my family’s issues—that’s not why I’m doing this either.”

“Then why?”

When Percy laughs, he knocks their foreheads together. Vax register’s vaguely that his hand has, at some point, found its way to rest just above Percy’s knee. “Has it not occurred to you that I might want you, you absurd man?”

Vax starts. Eyes wide, he looks at Percy, finding his gaze, soft and sincere.

“Oh,” he breathes.

“Indeed.”

Vax sighs, finally beginning to relax in full. He tips his head against Percy’s and shuts his eyes again.

“Will you kiss me, please, Percival?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

The kiss is slow, Percy is achingly gentle. Vax’s head is swimming at the soft, slick slide of their mouths, unable to stop himself from arching into it. Percy makes a low sound and his hand slides to the back of Vax’s neck. It is overwhelming how warm Percy is; the contrast with Vax’s bloodless lips almost unbearable. Vax presses closer, wanting all of Percy’s warmth for himself. One of his hands moves to rest on Percy’s chest, and he can feel his heartbeat--Vax was unprepared for the way that would make him feel. He keens into the kiss, a sound that Percy eagerly swallows with his own mouth. As Vax’s mouth falls open, Percy’s tongue presses cautious against the tip of a fang. As pressed close as they are, Vax can feel the full-body shudder that runs through Percy at that. He smiles, a wicked edge to it, and bites down on Percy’s lip. Percy’s resulting gasp is beautiful. Blood flows from the cut instantly, and though it isn’t much, Vax swipes his tongue over the wound, sucking Percy’s lower lip into his mouth for good measure. The little taste of Percy’s blood has made Vax dizzy, and he is panting hard as he pulls away. Percy, for his part, looks wrecked already. His bottom lip is swollen, puncture marks just barely visible, and he is flushed pink. Vax cannot stop himself from pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Alright, Percy?” he asks. His voice is light, but the question is serious.

“Oh, yes, quite.”

“Can I…?” Vax hesitates. Percy moves to kiss him once more, a hand tugging just slightly on Vax’s long hair.

“I would truly appreciate if you did.” The hand in Vax’s hair scratches lightly at his scalp, and he makes a small, content sound.

“Tell me,” he says, momentarily serious, “If you need me to stop. Or pull my hair, or…something.”

Percy nods. “I will.”

At last, Vax ducks his head, pressing his lips to the pale skin of Percy’s neck. He is so warm—Vax can feel his heart beating at his pulse point and it makes him shudder. He kisses down the column of Percy’s neck, the sharp points of his teeth dragging against the skin but never breaking it. Vax becomes lost in the cacophony of sensations—the pulse of Percy’s blood, just under his skin, the hitches in his breath, the hand twisting in his hair. The more coherent part of his brain thinks, vaguely, that he could stay like this forever. That is, until a soft moan tears itself from Percy’s lips.

“Vax, please,” he sighs. And who is Vax to deny such a request? His mouth finds purchase in the space between Percy’s neck and his collarbone, and he lays an open-mouthed kiss there. Anticipation rising in Vax’s stomach, he presses one last brief kiss to Percy’s skin. And then he bites.

Vax had thought that simply kissing Percy was overwhelming. This was indescribably more intense. The taste of Percy’s blood is perfect, sweet and cloying; richer than any wine Vax has ever tasted. Percy has thrown his head back, soft sounds escaping him as Vax drinks. He kisses the wound, tongue soothing, and moans.

“Gods, Percy.” He swipes his tongue over the bite once more, notices the bleeding beginning to slow. He pulls back, making eye contact with Percy as he licks the blood from his lips. Percy’s resulting whimper brings a dangerous grin to Vax’s mouth. When Vax kisses Percy’s jaw, he leaves a blood-sticky mark there. He drags his fangs up Percy’s jaw to his ear just to hear him gasp, teasing until Percy grabs him by the neck and pulls him in to kiss him again. Percy’s other hand pushes gently on his chest, bearing him back into the headboard. He licks into Vax’s mouth, and Vax wonders if Percy can taste his own blood on Vax’s tongue. After what may as well have been an eternity, they break apart, keeping their foreheads pressed together. Vax’s hand rests against Percy’s cheek, and both are panting. Vax, for one, is glad they did this sitting—he doubts he would have been steady enough to stand. He feels sated and heavy after feeding, and Percy doesn’t look too steady himself. Vax breathes out slow, a smile on his face.

“Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III,” he says, and Percy laughs breathlessly. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”

“Oh, quite a lot, darling.” Percy’s answer leaves a fluttery feeling in Vax’s chest, and he can’t help giving him another chaste kiss. Vax feels floaty, and warm—something about feeding, and about Percy, has left him feeling safe and nearly boneless with contentment.

“I love you,” Vax whispers. He doesn’t mean to say it, and nearly starts when he realizes that it slipped out. But he doesn’t try to take it back. He just looks back up at Percy, and smiles, and says it again. “I love you.” Percy kisses him again, sweet and gentle as he pulls Vax’s bottom lip into his mouth.

“I’m afraid I’ve been very obvious,” Percy tells him. “But I am rather in love with you, Vax.”

“Will you stay the night?”

“There is nowhere else I would rather be.”

And for the first time in nearly two days, Vax sleeps.

#perc'ildan #vax'ildan #percy de rolo #critical role #lgbt crdnd week #lgbt crdnd #jason writes #there is: no vampire sex in this #there is: kissing and 100% consensual blood-drinking #those two things happen at the same time #vax dies but he gets better #you know the drill #sO much hurt/comfort #so much people having to get vax to feel his feelings and not be an avoidant bastard #hes so hard to write bc its like ''ok lets talk about feelings'' and vax is just like ''i will do everything in my power to avoid #emotional vulnerability''#ANYWAYS TAKE THIS #its the longest thing ive ever written holy heck

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shadowofmoths · 5 years

Text

when you move (i’m moved)

(y’all ever write almost 3k of soft hurt/comfort about your own ocs?)

Summary: Kethra’s reunion with her girlfriend after three years goes just about as emotionally as expected.

At first, Saffron is too overwhelmed to notice the differences in Kethra. She knows, of course, that they both have changed. Saffron, for one doesn’t talk, the past three years having taken that from her. But Kethra understands, and Kethra loves her; Kethra knows a little language of tapping letters that she teaches to Saffron. And Kethra has changed, too, though it takes a while for Saffron to catch on. The more obvious things, she notices quickly—Kethra’s hair is short on one side now, uneven, and as Saffron runs her hands through it she sees it is shot through with stark white. Saffron smiles at this revelation, tugs on Kethra’s hair and taps out “you’re graying” on Kethra’s wrist. Kethra’s mouth twists into a wry smile, and Saffron’s heart soars—oh, how she had missed that smile.

“Only a couple hours back and you’re teasing me,” she says, but there’s no bite behind her words.

“Miss me?” Saffron taps, eyes crinkling up as she grins. But Kethra’s smirk falls immediately from her face, as she takes Saffron’s wrists in her hands. Kethra looks her straight in the eyes, serious in a way Saffron had barely ever known her to be.

“I missed you so much, Saffron, that every day I thought I could die of it. You can’t—“ Kethra laughs humorlessly. “I’d say you can’t imagine how much, but...but you’re probably the only person who can.”

Saffron leans forward, knocking her forehead against Kethra’s.

“I love you,” she taps, gentle against Kethra’s palm, and then again, “I love you.”

Kethra laughs, in the harsh and almost-hysterical way that Saffron knows means she’s on the verge of tears. So she kisses her, soft, and doesn’t tease when Kethra begins to cry anyway. She simply pulls back and swipes her thumbs over Kethra’s cheeks, catching the tears as they fall. As she does, she feels how prominent Kethra’s cheekbones have become; her face has thinned, making her look not quite skeletal, but still harsh and dangerous. Saffron then kisses Kethra’s cheekbone, and then each of the six teardrop marks around Kethra’s right eye. Those, at least, are familiar, birthmarks that Kethra shares with her brother Kieren. Saffron presses a smile against the cool skin of Kethra’s forehead and pulls back, her wrists still held in Kethra’s vice-grip. When Saffron flexes her fingers, Kethra lets go, ducking her head bashfully.

“I love you,” Kethra says, rushed and sudden and too-loud like she’s worried that Saffron has forgotten. She hasn’t. “Saffron, I—“ Kethra shakes her head sharply. “Stay near me?”

Very slowly, as if trying not to startle her, Saffron takes Kethra’s cold hand in hers, giving a small smile as she taps words out against her wrist.

“Oh, baby.” She interrupts herself briefly to place a series of small kisses on Kethra’s bony wrist, before tapping out “Always.” Saffron lets herself be drawn in, Kethra’s arm draped around her waist, and Saffron ends up nearly in her girlfriend’s lap, her legs resting over Kethra’s. All of a sudden, the stress of the past few hours—of coming back from the unknown—seeps into Saffron, and, exhausted, she hides her face in Kethra’s neck.

“Saf?”

“Sleepy.”

Kethra laughs, softly, and Saffron can feel her breath ghost across the side of her face.

“Alright. You just—you rest then, I, uh. I got you.”

Saffron smiles into Kethra’s neck.

“Relax.”

“I can’t,” Kethra replies, and though she tries to play it off with a laugh Saffron can hear the tension in her voice, can feel it in the set of her shoulders.

“Lie down,” Saffron suggests.

“You know Kieren will make fun of us if he finds out we fell asleep in the grass,” Kethra protests weakly, already leaning back and trying to find the most comfortable position for the two of them.

“Don’t care,” Saffron taps against Kethra’s jaw, feeling a little shiver run trough her as she does. “I’ll fight him.”

Kethra laughs, startled and real. “Now that, I’d love to see. My big tough mercenary brother gets beat up by my girlfriend. You could definitely take him, babe.”

“I know,” Saffron taps, fingers slow and heavy with exhaustion. “Sleep.”

“I...yeah. Yeah, alright.” Kethra shifts so their legs tangle together, and Saffron presses up against her, chasing what little warmth there is in Kethra’s slight frame. As Saffron begins to drift off, sleep at last clouding her vision, she hears Kethra whisper “I love you,” against the crown of her head. Before she is truly asleep, Saffron thinks she manages to tap a messy “love you” back.

Saffron wakes suddenly, breath coming in short gasps. Her eyes are wide with fear, her thoughts are racing—she has no idea where she is. It’s nearly dark, the sky going bruise-purple, there is grass beneath her, as well as—

“Saffron?” Kethra sits up, blinking the sleep from her eyes. It doesn’t take her long to notice Saffron’s panic. “Hey,” she murmurs, soothing. “Hey, come here, meleth nín.“ Saffron blinks hard a few times, bringing herself back into the moment.

“K-kethra...?” Her voice is scratchy from disuse, and Saffron cannot force out any more words. Kethra seems to catch on to Saffron’s mounting anxiety as soon as it starts, and brings a hand up to cup Saffron’s face, the other moving to lace their fingers together.

“Breathe with me, Saf, you’re okay. You’re alright, I got you, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just breathe.” Saffron can do little else but follow, matching her breaths to Kethra’s until at last her panic has subsided. Kethra runs her thumb back and forth over Saffron’s cheek, looking at her with gentle concern in her eyes. It’s so new a look on Kethra that Saffron nearly startles again.

“You okay?” Kethra asks. Saffron nods, bringing her hands up to tap on Kethra’s shoulder.

“I forgot. Got scared.”

“You forgot...you forgot what happened? That you were back?”

Saffron nods again.

“Saf...” The heartbreak in Kethra’s voice would be subtle to any other listener, but Saffron hears it ring as clearly as any bell.

“I’m okay. You’re here.”

“Yeah. Yeah, always.” There is still a soft, wounded quality to Kethra’s voice.

“Were you scared, too?” Saffron asks. Kethra doesn’t ask her to clarify.

“Yes.”

“You’re okay.” Saffron tells her. “I’m here,”

“I—Thank you.” Kethra breathes out, slow, and tilts their foreheads together. “I love you,” she breathes. “Goddess, Saffron, I love you.” Saffron can hear in her voice that tears have caught in Kethra’s eyes.

“I love you,” she taps back. “I love you, love you, love you.” She lays down again against Kethra, their twined fingers caught between them. Lulled by the sound of each other’s breathing, they slip back into sleep.

The next day, unfortunately, cannot be spent simply catching up and crying and holding each other. Kieren had been content to give them space for the night, but he returns with the sunlight, pushing Kethra playfully to the side and folding his arms around Saffron. Saffron laughs, near-silent but joyful nonetheless, and tucks her chin over his shoulder. He holds her for a long while, rocking her back and forth gently as he does. She taps out “missed you” against his chest when he pulls back, and, just like Kethra, he tears up immediately.

“Aw, buddy,” Saffron says, her smile almost-teasing.

“You can’t just say things like that!” Kieren cries, his tears flowing freely now.

“You two are exactly alike,” Saffron tells him. He gives a watery laugh.

“I’m going to act like that’s supposed to be a compliment.”

“It was,” Saffron says, pauses. “Dummy.”

“Aww, I love you too, Saffron.”

Saffron catches Kethra's scowl in the side of her vision, her face twisted up almost comically.

"Stop hogging my girlfriend, you ass," she grumbles, crossing her arms at him.

"No way!" Kieren tightens his arms around Saffron. "I missed her too, you know."

“Kieren,” Kethra sighs, eyebrows knitting together in a pointed glare.

Grinning mischievously, Kieren leans down to whisper to Saffron.

“Hold on tight, I’m gonna lift ya,” he says, waiting for Saffron to nod before sweeping her up in his arms. She laughs as he does, quite possibly the loudest sound she’s made since returning, and tightens her arms around Kieren’s neck. He lifts her up out of Kethra’s reach, using his extra inches of height to his advantage.

“Asshole!!” Kethra yells, even as she tries to grab Saffron’s ankle, but Kieren’s reflexes let him lift Saffron away before Kethra can grab hold. Giddy, Saffron laughs again, and in spite of herself Kethra’s face relaxes at the bright sound. At the same time, Kieren’s mischievous grin widens.

“Oh, no, Saffron,” he says, voice too-loud and exaggerated. Saffron squints at him, confused, until he taps out “go with me” in their little code on her shoulder. She gives him a slight nod, smiling, and he continues. “I’m sure Kethra is strong enough to carry you. I’m sure that my very tough little sister is also very strong and has never neglected her workouts to sleep in, or throw things at me while I exercise.”

Kethra’s eyes widen as she realizes Kieren’s plan. “You motherfucker, don’t you dare—“ But before she can finish, Kieren has deposited Saffron into Kethra’s arms, gentle only for Saffron’s sake. To her credit, Kethra keeps her in the air for a moment, before she begins to wobble and the two collapse on the ground. Victorious, Kieren barks a laugh, while Saffron laughs into her girlfriend’s shoulder. Kethra groans dramatically.

“I hate you both,” she sighs.

“You love me,” Saffron taps, and Kethra seems about to reply when Kieren interrupts.

“Aw, Keth, you love me!” he echoes, and Kethra’s mouth clicks shut as she sighs again.

“Whatever,” she grumbles. Still laughing, Kieren extends a hand to the girls to help pull them up. The two laying prone make instant eye contact and share a moment of understanding, before grabbing Kieren’s hand and the same time and pulling him down on top of them. The shout Kieren gives is overdramatic, and he collapses on top of them with a soft oof. Saffron just lets it happen, and finds herself tapping out “family” on both Kethra and Kieren’s wrists.

They pick up travel soon after that, heading into the nearest town. Still tired from her sudden return, Saffron elects to take a break from walking as dusk begins to approach. Kieren goes ahead; the town lies just before them, and, needing to move, he decides to find a place for them to stay the night. As Saffron catches her breath, Kethra sits with her, the two resting against a willow tree. After a moment, Kethra tilts her head to rest against Saffron’s shoulder, and laces their fingers together. Sensing a conversation, Saffron curls her other hand around Kethra’s wrist, and, soon enough, Kethra speaks.

“You—you asked me last night, if I was scared.”

“Yes.”

“…For the past three years, I’ve been scared. Since the first day you were gone, Saffron, I—every day, I woke up, and thought about all I had done to get you back, and—and don’t get me wrong, I would do every one of those things again and again and again if it meant seeing you, even one more time. But if I…if after everything I did, if even then I couldn’t find you?” Kethra cuts herself off, breath sharp, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Saffron squeezes her hand, taps her nose against Kethra’s jaw.

“I’m here,” she says, fingers gentle on Kethra’s arm. Kethra nods, breathes a shaky exhale.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s just—Saffron, I wouldn’t survive losing you again. It’s…I mean, I have Kieren, I know what it’s like to love someone that you couldn’t live without. I know that. I hate it, but I know that’s how love works. But there’s something about having actually lost you, Saf, I just…I wouldn’t have anything else to give up, to get you back. Honestly, I…I’m scared to think about what I would do. You really are, like, most of my impulse control,” she laughs, no humor in it. “If I lost you again—“

Saffron knocks her head against Kethra’s temple, fixes her with the most intense look she can manage.

“Not happening.”

“Saffron…”

“Kethra. Look at me.” She does, meeting Saffron’s eyes, and that’s when she notices—Ketha’s eyes are blue, now, a stark, icy shade, as opposed to the near-black brown they once were. Undeterred, Saffron continues. “Not ever, Keth. I swear. Nothing in the nine realms can keep me from you.” Kethra sighs softly, and leans heavy against Saffron like all the fight has drained out of her.

“Okay,” she breathes. “Okay.” They are silent for a long moment before Kethra speaks again. “Saffron?”

“Yeah?”

“I did a lot of things, to try and get you back.”

“I know.”

“I’m not—proud, of most of them. I don’t regret them, I can’t, really. But…” she trails off. Saffron lets her, lets the silence hang for another few beats. “Saffron, I don’t think I’m the same person that I was before you left.”

“Neither am I, Kethra.” Saffron looks at her, gentleness in her eyes.

“I know, I…I know that. But—“ This time, Saffron cuts her off.

“No buts.”

“Saffron, gods damn it, I sold my soul for you.” There is an intensity in Kethra’s voice, and her eyes flash—with more than just emotion. The ice blue of her irises flashes, impossibly vibrant, with blue energy. The long branches of the willow that they rest on begin to crackle with frost. Kethra swears under her breath. “Shit, sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ Saffron interrupts, brushing a kiss against the corner of Kethra’s mouth. Kethra stops, abruptly, a shocked sound escaping her before she relaxes into the tree behind her.

“Saffron,” Kethra’s voice is low and wounded, cracking ever so slightly with emotion. Saffron kisses her again, full on the mouth this time, bringing a hand up to curl into Kethra’s hair. She tugs at the greying strands. Kethra makes a soft sound before pitching forward, leaning back into Saffron. Her hands catch Saffron’s waist, fingers pressing in hard enough to bruise. Like she needs the reminder that Saffron is real. Saffron taps “breathe,” into Kethra’s neck, pulls gently at her bottom lip, and Kethra huffs a laugh against her. Saffron pulls back, smiles; kisses Kethra swiftly once more.

“We’re okay,” she taps.

Later that night, in the inn, Kethra begins to teach Saffron sign language. It isn’t the standard, Common sign language, which Saffron had never had the time or resources to learn. It was different, a combination of Common, Elvish, and some signs that Kethra and Kieren had come up with on their own. It came in handy, Kethra told her, when the twins would work together on some job and need to be quiet. Saffron just smiles, at that, feeling warm all over. Kisses each of the tiny birthmarks under Kethra’s eye. A language just for their little family. As the night gets ever darker, the pair gets less studious, Kethra finding herself easily distracted by Saffron’s teasing.

“Show me…I love you,” Saffron taps against Kethra’s cheek, and she complies. She raises her hand up, folding down her middle and ring finger while leaving the other three out. Saffron mimics her, tapping the words along Kethra’s jaw as she does.

“Yeah, I get it, you softie. I love you too.” Her words come with a smile, soft and real despite her teasing. Saffron replaces the fingers on Kethra’s jaw with her mouth, leaving open-mouthed kisses there as she moves towards Kethra’s slightly-pointed ear.

“What’s the sign for ‘kiss me?’” Saffron asks, her smile still pressed against the side of Kethra’s face. Kethra laughs, harsh and beautiful, and shows her. She doesn’t break eye contact or drop her smile as she taps her extended fingers against her mouth, and then her cheek. Saffron does the same, but taps her fingers against Kethra’s face instead of her own. Gentle pressure on Kethra’s mouth, and then cheek, and Saffron follows her fingers with her mouth. Kethra laughs as Saffron kisses her cheek, and Saffron grins back at her.

“You’re a sap.”

That startles a laugh from Saffron; she covers her mouth with her hand.

“I’m your sap,” she says, fingers pressing gentle on the high curve of Kethra’s cheekbone. Kethra’s voice is soft when she answers.

“Yeah. Yeah, you are.” Kethra pauses for a moment, and Saffron can practically see the wheels of her brain turning. “Hey, I—I got another sign for you.”

Saffron raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?” She signs it this time, rather than tapping, and Kethra smiles.

“Yeah.” She demonstrates—clasps her hands together, in the same way that she so often grabs Saffron’s hand, and then taps one hand to her sternum. Saffron cocks her head.

“What does it mean?” She asks. Kethra’s smile is edging on nervous as she answers.

“Marry me?”

Kethra is very glad that she had already taught Saffron the sign for “yes.”

#kethra naï’lo #lgbt crdnd #lgbt crdnd week #jason writes #THATS a rarely used tag #kieren naï’lo #saffron arden #ocs #d&d

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