FANDOMS INCLUDE: Critical Role, Castlevania, Dungeons & Dragons, Elder Scrolls, Fallout, and more.

My ask box is always open for mutuals to send starters or prompts.

I don’t like starting new rps without responding to old ones so even if it makes more sense to just abandon them, I’m going to try to persevere.

With that said, it has not been forgotten or abandoned. I will return eventually once I get this game out of my system.

-

Keyleth lifted her eyes from the ground, feeling as if she was only now returning to herself. It was an effortless thing for her to get lost in her own thoughts, and it always had been. To get lost in her own mind, her endless worries and perpetual doubts and the gnawing fear that she wasn't doing enough.

Her eyebrows had been furrowed and her nerves stiff, but looking into Vax's face made the tension begin to melt away with astonishing ease. He warmed her heart in ways she didn't fully understand.

She didn't know how to respond. To hear him say he was proud of her made her stomach flip.

"I..." she hesitated, overwhelmed with all she was feeling. "I don't know what to say to that, but thank you."

-

Slowly, hesitantly, Keyleth reached for his hand. She didn't look at him just yet, instead keeping her gaze towards the distance. She threaded her fingers gently through his, her thumb caressing the skin of his hand in soft, comforting movements. It was as much to soothe herself as assure him that his sentiment was returned.

"I just... I feel like when I need someone, I need them too much, you know? Like I'm just burdening them with my... everything. I get so attached, Vax, and I don't know what to do."

Her eyes flickered to his, a frown crossing her face.

"There's nothing wrong with needing someone, but the way I need people makes me feel wrong. Even the thought of losing what I have makes me panic. And I know how inevitable that is, I know that it will happen, I know that I will lose everyone because I'll live for so long—"

She spoke with increasing speed, the panic seizing her as she'd said. She cut herself off with a strangled gasp, and a growing tightness pulled in her chest. Her hand in his turned stiff.

-

Keyleth raised her head from where she buried it in her knees, her legs drawn up into her chest. She hugged her legs closer as if to make herself smaller. Her green eyes were rimmed with red. She was no longer crying, hadn't been for several minutes, but the evidence was painfully obvious.

She swallowed and then wiped at her eyes. She just nodded at her friend, silently thankful for the support Pike always seemed to offer.

A quiet stretched between them. Then, Keyleth gave a sigh and her lips curled into a humorless smile.

-

It had been far too long since Elaina had last seen her sister. Months, years maybe, though any time apart felt like ages. It certainly hadn't been intentional, more a natural progression of their blossoming adult lives. They'd each set out on their own.

And now, Elaina was back. She'd wandered into Zephrah with haunted eyes and heavy shoulders. Her mother, she'd expected to be there, as she entered the family home. Instead, she'd found Vilya, her dear twin. It seemed her sister was also visiting, and Elaina's heart felt lighter at the sight of her.

Elaina had taken a seat, no words exchanged. Her gaze was planted stubbornly on the floor, jaw clenched at the emotions swirling inside her. There was so much that had happened. So much she had lost. And she didn't know quite how to express it.

Vilya's voice finally drew Elaina's eyes up from the ground. The corner of her mouth twitched for the briefest second, undecided on whether to frown or force a weak smile.

She spoke softly. "I know. Thank you."

-

Keyleth did not speak, not immediately. Instead, she reached for Vax's arm, brought herself in closer, and tucked herself into his side. Her arms wound around his waist, her hands grasping at him as if afraid holding him any looser meant he'd vanish with the wind.

After a long moment spent gathering her thoughts, she tilted her face back to look at him. Her green eyes were framed by furrowed brows and a frown she was attempting—and failing—to prevent.

"I... I'm sorry," she murmured.

She was uncertain what exactly she was apologizing for, she just knew that she felt it. Perhaps it was for her numerous flaws and hesitations, the endless list of wrongs she perceived about herself and her very existence. She was too doubtful, too emotional, too stubborn. And yet, Vax continued to put up with her anyway.

That idle reminder, that he was here, that he miraculously wanted to be at her side made her take a deep breath. With the exhale went some of the anxiety in her expression, the ever present fears she barely kept at bay.

She offered him a weak smile. It was soft, true.

-

She sat outside on an overlook, previously alone, on a seat of twisted wood. In the distance below, her home village sprawled outward across the land, looking just as natural a part of the landscape as the jagged cliffs or sturdy trees.

Elaina lifted her head from where it'd been resting atop her arm, chin cradled in her palm. Her lips quirked at the man's words. She'd said little and yet he somehow knew, at least partially, what was clouding her mind.

"I know that, in theory."

For Elaina, it wasn't necessarily about fixing herself or correcting supposed imperfections. It was more the ever present desperation to help, the lasting need to take on her loved one's burdens. She'd always been an empathetic soul and for as long as she could remember, her love for her family had been her driving force. The single most important thing in her life. She'd gladly shouldered any weights that they were willing to share, had taken it upon herself to hear their troubles and give them the fullest extent of her support. She did whatever she possibly could to lessen the suffering of her mother, sister, cousins.

Now, though, she was needed less and less. She couldn't be the only person they relied on, and she'd never expected such a thing, yet it felt as if her aid wasn't often sought as it once had been. And as someone who'd long been defined by her familial devotion, what would that change mean? What could she possibly offer if not guidance and solutions to others' woes? A small bitter voice within her said that if she didn't serve a tangible function, then her worth was void.