#cobaltsouled

cut is a kind word, a soft word, a word that yasha does not deserve to use. cut does not explain this. yasha cut her down like it was easy. ( it was. the physical movement was nothing. the screaming in her head was a different story. watching as beau fell by her own hand is a memory that will not be erased. ) 

“you did not know the worm that tried to eat you, beau.” 

a minute shake of her head yasha is sure does not get her point across, because what can she say? she’s put them through hell. no amount of convincing, no amount of it wasn’t you can change the fact that she sees it on them. they’re tired, they’re hurt, and she’s part of the reason why. 

@cobaltsouled 

anon's reading comprehension rly is like...... wow..............

“Nice having a third cleric around,” Molly chirps, tricep pillowed on the table as he gazes absently after Cree. She stands some paces away with an expression he’s come to read as overwhelmed by tiefling-related enthusiasm while Jester gesticulates wildly through a story about a dragon. The way her hands bob and flutter remind him of blue Morphos. “I know you still don’t trust her, but really. She’s been a gem.”

It’s been an odd couple of months of travel, odder still to be with the Nein again in a completely different country. Cree has been an asset in that time, a companion, loyal enough to defy the Gentleman to find him, to take him somewhere he’ll have trouble following.

“I will do what I can to keep us safe, Lucien,” she’d said, digging through her satchel with a clink. “Even if that means calling you Mollymauk.” A river he couldn’t name roared beside them. She pulled out a bundle of leather, unrolled it, pulled out phial after phial caked with blood. She methodically cleaned each, shattered their remains, and threw them into the river.

“Call me Molly,” he murmured after a while; so fresh from the grave, he had no idea how to stifle his relief. She smiled at him with a twitch of whiskers. First night he’d slept peacefully in an age.

“I actually think. Y’know, I think Yash’ will like her,” he continues, flashing Beau a lopsided grin. He finishes off his ale and pushes his tankard away, stretching his arms out across the surface of the table like a large, lazy cat. “How long’s it been since she fucked off again?”

     he is thinking too much. he is thinking about what nott said, what nott asked of him, and he is thinking too much as he watches her trot along the beach with yeza and luc and his mind is going too fast.

     ( it’s always too fast, he thinks, always too quick too fast too much )

     he needs to get his mind off of it. he needs to do something to slow himself down and so -- and so he has his scarf folded in his arms, plucking seashells out of the sand and dropping them into old and frayed fabric as he walks. there’s a spot of color ahead of him, bright reds where there were normally blues, and he moves over to where beau sits in the shade to dump the armful of shells into the sand beside her.

jester has always loved playing with other people’s hair, her mom being the first victim of that interest as jester’s chubby little hands had tied knots into her long, thick hair. she was admittedly better now, thanks to years of practice, but her attention still wandered. 

for a while she’d just been thinking about how nice beau’s hair smelled, and how soft it was. then she’d run out of hair to braid and her eyes had caught on something else. 

a thick, jagged scar running along the other woman’s back. 

she makes a little sound at how rough it is under her fingertips. jester doesn’t remember this from a battle or know why it’s there, doesn’t remember seeing it knit back together from a cure wounds of caduceus’ or her own. she wonders if it’s from training with people like dairon, maybe, or something else. 

beau’s voice pulls her back into the world again, away from all thoughts of the warm skin beneath her fingertips ( and other thoughts she quickly tries to push back down ) and jester clears her throat. 

is beau good with kids? no. will she be his v awkward but fun aunt? fuck yeah