#ravendruid

Sitting in the other one’s lap when they have no where else to sit(during appropriate times 👀) going a lil off-script with this one and setting it in vamp machina, pre-kidnapping

Keyleth asks every night for three weeks straight until Vax finally relents. He doesn't know why she's so set on this, easily the dumbest idea she's ever had, but when she makes her eyes all big and shiny like that, what's he supposed to do, let her down?

So he takes her to a vampire bar.

It's the sleazy dive near the docks, the kind of place that the kind of girl like Keyleth would never accidentally stumble into. When he picks her up from her apartment, she's dressed in what he's sure she thinks is something incognito—skinny black jeans, one of his t-shirts, a baggy gray flannel, boots that have seen better days. And it's true, she looks the part—she looks fucking incredible, if he's being honest—but it's not going to change the fact that she smells undeniably human.

They take a taxi, and on the entire drive, Vax goes over the rules three more times, low so the cabbie doesn't hear. "Never more than two feet away from me, don't take any drink offered to you, keep Pike's holy symbol around your neck at all times—"

"—conjure sunlight if things get hairy, yes, I know." She rolls her eyes at him, but Vax can tell she's excited. "I promise, I'll be on my best behavior."

"Yeah, well, it's not you I'm worried about."

The cab pulls up outside the bar, which looks identical to every other brick-faced building around it, cracked sidewalks and all, and Vax gets out first, putting himself between her and the door. As he helps her out, he murmurs, "We can leave now. The night's still young, we can probably catch that movie you were telling me about."

She ignores him, brushing past him to head for the door. He scrambles to catch up to her. When they enter, it's exactly as he remembers: low lights, throbbing music, vampires and their rented donors lounging on all configurations of couches and tables. The whole place smells of copper and cigarette smoke, and instantly Vax is starving.

He keeps a hand firm around Keyleth's waist. Her presence does not go unnoticed; at least half a dozen of the closest vampires swing their eyes up and down her body, one obviously comparing her to the scantily-dressed woman his teeth in whose neck his teeth are currently buried.

Vax hates this place.

"C'mon." He starts to urge her toward a table farther away from the main bar area, but Keyleth resists. "What about a drink?" she asks, gesturing toward the bartender.

"You offering?"

Vax yanks Keyleth away from the burly, seedy vamp suddenly leering over her. "Fuck off," he hisses, letting his fangs finish the rest of the threat. He's not surprised when the other vamp slinks off; this place sucks, but at least it's generally understood that you don't eat off of anyone else's plate without permission.

There's a table free in the corner, which makes Vax antsy, but at least it's empty. As he shepherds a too-curious Keyleth towards it, he's stopped by an annoyingly familiar drawl. "Never thought I'd catch you here, brother."

Vax freezes. Keyleth stumbles, then turns to see what made him stop. "Are you...oh, wow." Her head swivels between Vax and his sister, who is seated at a booth along the wall across from two other vamps whose names Vax can't remember but whose faces he recognizes from the many, many nights he spent bouncing between haunts like this one. "You two look...I mean, you must be Vex!"

Keyleth is beaming, like this is always how she imagined meeting her boyfriend's twin sister. Vex is draped along the back edge of the booth, looking as casually sinister as ever, her eyes surveying Keyleth in a way that Vax knows means scrutiny, not hunger. "And you must be the witch." Her eyes swivel over to Vax. "You brought her here? And here I was thinking you stopped being fun when you started eating at home all the time."

Keyleth's cheeks tinge pink, and the other vamps—Vax is going to remember their names any second, he's sure of it—start to salivate at the smell of her blood pooling so close to the surface. Keeping his voice low, Vax murmurs, "Play nice, Vex'ahlia."

Vex throws her hands up in surrender. "I'm always nice, brother." She smiles sweetly at Keyleth. "Would you care to join us, darling?"

Before Vax can protest, Keyleth chirps, "Of course!" She eyes the seats beside Vex, which will definitely not fit the both of them. Undeterred, Keyleth grabs Vax by the arm and shoves him unceremoniously beside his sister. He's just managed to right himself when she perches on his lap, swinging her legs beneath the table. "There!"

Everyone stares at her, Vax easily the most dumbfounded. She's never been like this. Keyleth tends to be shyer than most, preferring to keep her affections behind closed doors, which is more than fine with Vax—so sitting on his lap and playing with the fine hairs at the nape of his neck in a den of vampires and iniquity is about as far from the Keyleth he knows as she can get.

Vex, on the other hand, seems bemused. "You are a wild thing, aren't you?" She leans in, teeth glittering in the light of the candle in the middle of the table. "I can see why my brother likes you."

"And I can see why he speaks so highly of you. You're so confident. I admire that."

"Aren't you sweet?" Vex whacks Vax's shoulder. "You should be sweet like her."

"Oh, he's plenty sweet." Her fingers have abandoned his hair and are now playing with the sensitive tip of his ear, and even in the tense atmosphere of this bar, it is...doing something to him. "He's a real gentleman, walks me home from work, brushes my hair out before bed, always stops drinking before I get dizzy—"

Vax chokes. "Keyleth—"

The woman across from Vex—Jenna? Jemma? It's driving him crazy—smirks. "Quite the pair you two make. I don't suppose you ever share..."

"Oh, I don't share." Keyleth lifts the hand that isn't torturously teasing his ear, and Vax's eyes blown wide when small sparks of sunlight dance between her fingers.

The vampire couple shies away with a hiss, and then the man grumbles, "We should go." The two slip easily out of the booth and disappear among the crowd.

Just like that, Keyleth slumps against Vax's chest, barely giving him enough time to catch her before she slides off his lap. "That was a lot."

"I'll fucking say. I've never seen you act like that before."

She smiles sheepishly. "Did you see her face when you walked up? She wanted to eat you up." She shrugs. "I had to...educate her."

Oh, if they weren't in the most dangerous place in the city right now. Vax's jaw hangs low, but Vex's head tips back as she cackles. "Oh...oh I like you. Feisty little witch you've found yourself, Vax. I rather think this vine's got thorns."

sweet and intimate actions which make me go feral and have me folding like a folding chair this ask takes place in the same universe as this

The sun beams warm the air that constantly swirls throughout Zephrah, the gentle breeze swimming its way through the open windows of Keyleth and Vax’s home in the center of the village. The Voice of the Tempest can see the pink blooms of the cherry blossom tree from where she sits in the kitchen, futzing with some flowers that she just trimmed from one of the window boxes, and she smiles as she watches a few kids run around the massive tree and play. 

“Hey, Mama?” There’s a little grunt as a pudgy half-elf no older than five with a mop of dark hair and deep brown eyes the size of saucers pulls himself onto a chair at the kitchen table across from his mother.

“Yes, Carric?” She lifts her eyes to smile at her son, still holding onto a flower in her fingers but pausing any movement. 

“How many times have you and Daddy kissed?” 

Keyleth’s eyes widen to match the size of her son’s; while his are filled with curiosity, hers are rattled with surprise. Her freckled cheeks darken and soon she’s laughing, raising a hand to cover her mouth as the other puts the flower down. “What makes you ask that?” 

“I just wanna know.” 

“You just want to know?” 

Carric nods, his bangs bopping against his forehead. 

Keyleth sits back in her chair as the surprise fades, and she gives a little shrug. “I don’t think I can put a number to it. There have been so many.” 

“Please? Is it more than six hundred?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Where did you get six hundred from?”

Carric’s eyes move away from Keyleth and he starts to chew on his bottom lip, something he tends to do when he’s thinking. “Do you think it’s more?”

“Carric, what is–”

“Lyla said her mommies have kissed six hundred times and I said you and Daddy have kissed more. She didn’t believe me.” 

And there it is. Carric is too young to start school, but there are get-togethers for parents and their younger kids quite often, allowing the little ones to mingle and learn how to socialize with others their own age. Lyla is one of the first friends Carric has made, a tiny Hafling girl with a lot of spirit and the sweetest parents. 

“Why were you guys talking about kiss–you know what, it doesn’t matter.” 

Carric’s eyes trail back to his mother, lower lip still between his teeth. “Is it bad?”

“No!” Keyleth reaches over, grabs Carric under the arms, and pulls him into her lap. “No, it’s not bad. You’re allowed to talk about kissing. Kissing is nice when it’s with people you love.” She kisses him on the cheek. “See?”

Carric giggles, and for a moment is distracted, but he tilts his head back to look up at Keyleth as soon as the giggles fade. “So if it’s good you’ve done it a lot, right?”

With a smile, Keyleth gives a slow nod. “Yes, Dad and I kiss a lot. I really don’t know how many times we’ve kissed, Snowdrop. I’m surprised Lyla knows.”

“Do you think Daddy might know?”

“There’s one way to find out. Hey, Vax!” 

There’s a muffled sound of a chair pushing against the wood floor before the telltale thumps of Vax making his way down the spiral stairs cut into a tree trunk that laces through their home. 

“You rang?” Vax’s eyes light up at the sight of his wife and child, and he leans down to kiss them both on the head.

“Daddy, do you know how many times you and Mommy have kissed?”

Vax’s brow raises, and he leans back against the kitchen island. “Ever?”

Carric nods enthusiastically and Vax lifts his head as if the answer is on the ceiling. “Hmm.” He chews on his bottom lip, mirroring his child from moments before, before he smiles, looks at the both of them, and leans in to give Keyleth a sweet little peck. “Three thousand two-hundred and ninety-six.” 

“What?”

“Yeah!” 

Keyleth’s burst of surprise and Carric’s burst of success overlap each other, and the toddler wriggles out of his mom’s arms to dance between his parents. 

“I knew it! That’s so many!”

Keyleth stares at Vax, brows furrowed so much that there’s a nice trench forming at the top of her nose. “Is that the actual number?"

Vax simply smiles and kisses her again. “No, seriously, is that the real number, because if you’ve been counting this whole time that’s–” She can’t quite come up with the word–or perhaps she doesn’t want to call her husband a psychopath in front of their child–so instead Keyleth just laughs, and Vax just shrugs. 

“For a long time I thought I’d have a limited amount of them.” Vax’s voice was quiet, hoping Carric’s celebrations would swallow his explanation. “I think there’s a part of me that hasn’t let go of that fear.” 

Keyleth’s chest constricts and she reaches up, pulling Vax to her for another kiss. “They’re not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”

Vax smiles at Keyleth, his wife, and tilts his chin to kiss her again. "I'm sure one day I'll lose count."

Hi Raven! Thank you very much for the prompt! I hope I did it justice! These two cuties are becoming one of my favorite ships to write for!

(A/N: This story is part of an AU I'm calling the Vax Lives verse, where Scanlan manages to use his wish spell to prevent the RQ from taking Vax at the end of C1. He and Keyleth are now happily married and are living in Zephrah.

Also, There is a trigger warning on this one for a mention of a miscarriage. No graphic detail is given, but it is mentioned. Feel free to skip this one if you need to.) 

“Breathe,” Vax gently took Keyleth’s hand. “Breathe with me.” She squeezed it heavily, which hurt a little, but he didn’t care. “Everything’s okay.” He gently casts Lay on Hands to try and get rid of the sick feeling in her gut.

It must have worked because Keyleth finally took a breath, and then she leaned forward and rested her forehead against his shoulder. “Ugh. This sucks.”

Truth Serum/Spell with Vaxleth, please? That should be fun, right?

Somehow I know you will find a way to hurt us :)

60. Truth Serum/spell

If there's one thing Vox Machina loves, it's drinking. If there are two things Vox Machina loves, it's drinking and games. If there are three things Vox Machina loves, it's drinking and games and inappropriate uses of magic.

Which is how they all bully Pike, face red and eyes hazy, into casting zone of truth, thereby initiating an instantly intense game of truth or drink. As per the rules, everyone allows the magic to wash over them, and the vulnerability begins.

They draw straws, and Scanlan wins. Pointing a finger at Grog, he demands, "How big is your dick really?"

Grog pouts. "Not fair. You know I ain't good with numbers."

"Compare it to another object!"

Grog's face scrunches up as he thinks way too hard for way too long. Finally he settles on, "Percy's forearm."

The table erupts in gasps and swears. "Wait wait wait," Vex hiccups, swaying slightly. "Is that just length, or girth too?"

"No, it's my turn to ask!" Grog hums a little as he thinks. "Percy..."

"Oh gods," the man in question mutters, his cheeks already tinged pink.

"You ever go to one of the lady houses in Whitestone?"

"I've been to several ladies' houses in Whitestone, Grog." He smiles smugly at having successfully sidestepped the question.

"BOO!" Keyleth tosses a handful of bar pretzels at him. "Answer the question!"

"I do believe it's my turn now." He ignores the disappointed grumbling and levels his eyes at Keyleth, who shrinks in fear of what's coming her way. "Vax."

Oh.

Vax's head is tipped on Keyleth's shoulder, and she's pretty sure he's already half-asleep. "Hm?"

Percy maintains the most deadly eye contact with Keyleth as he asks, "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Vax hums thoughtfully. "Well, dead, most likely—"

"Fucking hell," Vex groans.

"—but if not that, then...mmm...living in Zephrah with Keyleth and our babies."

Keyleth's face instantly goes up in flames. She buries her nose in her tankard, utterly unable to make eye contact with any of her friends, who are either gagging or making the most obnoxious kissy noises. She nearly chokes on her mead when Vax asks, "Kiki?"

"Hm?" she squeaks.

"Does that scare you?"

Oh, fuck this game. She feels six pairs of eyes boring into her, but the only one she sees are his, large and dark like a cow's, his head twisted up to her with an expression so tender she wonders if he's real. "No," she whispers, "but that's what scares me."

"i'm sorry...i didn't even realize" tw: depression

Essek doesn't like to think he's particularly needy. For so long now, he's danced on this tightrope solo, entirely responsible for his own survival in these war games he started. It's instilled in him a comfort in being alone, something he's been more often than not as he's been forced to stay on the run from the various entities who'd like to bring him to his knees.

Which is why it's so very strange, this grumbling in his chest, when for the third day in a row, his sending has gone unanswered. He's been in this derelict cabin in the Copia Wildwood for two weeks now, languishing and bored, and all he wants to do is be somewhere else. He doesn't think it's asking too much to reach out to Caleb for distraction—Tell me what you're working on, Caleb Widogast. Surely it is more interesting than the crumbling walls of this shack.—and yet his entreaties are answered with silence, and it's driving Essek mad.

Maybe he's done something. It's true that it's been longer than usual since he's visited the little cottage in Rexxentrum that is the closest thing he knows to home—perhaps Caleb has taken offense to his prolonged absence. Or maybe it's the question itself; is Essek prying where he ought not be prying?

(There is, of course, the horrifying possibility that Caleb is unable to reply to Essek's sendings, that something has happened to him, that in his desperate instinct for his own survival, Essek has left the most important person in his world vulnerable and alone. No. Caleb is capable. This is a possibility Essek cannot entertain, even for a moment. Not if he is to stop himself from going mad in this Light-blasted cabin.)

Three more days of silence, and Essek is ready to pull his hair out. He doesn't care that it's risky, doesn't care that Beau warned him of increased interest in his whereabouts in the chatter overheard from the Cerberus Assembly. He throws his meager belongings into his pack and quickly erases all traces of himself from the cabin. He takes out the thick wool gloves that Caleb gave him for their many sojourns to Aeor and uses them to focus his teleport. The familiar push and pull is almost a comfort as he disappears and reappears in the foyer of Caleb's cottage.

The place is a mess. The cats have clearly taken over, meowing in chorus and digging through the already-ransacked pantry. The smell is atrocious, and the worry Essek's been holding at bay rises in him like a tidal wave.

He doesn't call out, in case there are others in the house. He glides silently toward the closed bedroom door, almost too afraid to know what's on the other side of it.

What he finds is Caleb's bedroom, much as he remembers it, but far less bright and airy. The curtains have all been drawn, and there is debris and detritus from half-eaten meals everywhere. There is a large lump beneath the duvet, which Essek approaches slowly. "Light, is that you?" The lump shifts, and Essek floats to sit on the edge of the mattress just beside it. He pulls the duvet back to reveal the most disheveled, unkempt Caleb Widogast he has ever seen in his life.

"Oh dear." There is a haunted look in Caleb's eyes, eyes which seem to stare straight through Essek as if he isn't even there. His beard, normally shiny and well-shaped, is scraggly and rough, and the hair Essek loves to card his fingers through is oily and matted.

"Essek?" Caleb croaks. Essek wonders how long it's been since he's spoken, since he's had water. "You...are here."

"I'm here, my Light. You had me very worried." When Caleb's brow furrows in confusion, he says, "You haven't been answering my messages."

The confusion doesn't go away. "Oh. I'm sorry...I didn't even realize...I don't remember hearing them."

Essek doesn't even know where to begin. "It's been nearly a week since we last spoke. What happened?"

The glassiness has returned to Caleb's eyes, and Essek wants to climb inside of him and claw him back from wherever he is retreating within himself. "A week. I did not notice that either."

"How about we forget the whys, yes? First, a bath, and I will clean the cottage." He quickly casts prestidigitation on the few plates and bowls piled up on Caleb's nightstand in demonstration. "And then some proper food, I think, for you and the cats, and when you're ready, you can tell me what has been keeping you from me this past week."

19. Tracing tattoos

Pike's not ashamed to admit that she uses her stature to her advantage. In so many ways, being three feet tall is a hindrance in a world built for tall folks, so why shouldn't she play the height card when it puts the hand in her favor?

Most days, that looks like riding around on Grog's shoulders when the group moves from place to place. Sure, she could walk, but considering it takes her ten paces to match one of the big guy's, why put in the effort? Besides, nothing's better tapping out a rhythm on Grog's shiny head while they sing dumb songs together. It reminds her of hanging out with Pop Pop back in Westruun, makes her a little less homesick.

Today, though, there's less music and more tired sighs. They've been trudging for ages toward this village on the outskirts of Emon, because apparently they're working for the government now, and everyone's grumpy. Pike absentmindedly tracing over the tattoos criss-crossing Grog's hairless skull, lost in thought, when Grog clears his throat and calls up, "Uh, Pikey?"

Snapped out of her reverie, she leans down closer to his face and says, "Yeah?"

"Whatcha doin' up there?"

She looks back at his tattoos. "I don't know. I guess...do you like having these?" She traces another one.

He shrugs, and the movement nearly sends Pike toppling off his shoulders. "I don't think it about it much. They're just...part of me." He cranes his head around. "Why? Do you not like 'em?" There's an edge of worry in his tone.

Pike laughs and pats his face. "Of course I like them, big guy. They're yours. I can't imagine you without them."

"Good." He looks forward again.

Pike continues to trail her fingers over the bold lines. "I just...do they make you think of your old Herd at all?"

Grog starts to slow his pace, and Pike guesses he's trying to let some distance form between them and the rest of Vox Machina. "I mean...sometimes, yeah. I don't like thinkin' about them a lot."

"I know you don't, buddy." She rests her chin atop his head. "For what it's worth, I don't think about them when I see these. I think about my best friend, and how cool he is."

That puts a pep in Grog's step. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You think I should shave my head and get a matching set?"

Grog comes a dead stop. "That. Would be. Fucking. Amazing."

Pike throws her head back in a laugh. "Not a chance, big guy." She kicks her heels into his pecs to usher him on. "C'mon, we're falling behind."

“ i think you should kiss me. “

"Is this too slutty?"

Percy doesn't even lift his head off of the bed. He keeps staring at the same spot on the ceiling he's been staring at for the past forty minutes. "No. Can we go?"

"We can't go if I look slutty, Percival." He can hear her dress swishing as she turns, presumably to achieve new angles in the mirror. "They're a curse, these tits, as much as a gift."

He's certainly not going to argue. "No one cares if you look slutty. It's a banquet, not a coronation."

"But I'm the hostess, dear. I need to achieve some semblance of class."

He's starting to sweat in this jacket, and he's starving. "If I look, I will tell you that you look beautiful, because you always do and I desperately would like to go down before all of our guests eat our food and leave. So you must decide for yourself if you are willing to try on yet another dress or if we are to attend our own party at some point this evening."

She clacks her teeth together nervously. "Do you think I should change?"

He sighs and hauls himself into a seated position. She's breathtaking, an absolute knockout in a shimmering midnight blue dress with a plunging neckline and a dangerous slit up the left side of the skirt. Were he not almost deliriously hungry, he'd cast his vote for staying here and peeling the fabric back inch by inch, devouring each new expanse of skin until he's sweating for much more fun reasons. He meets her eyes in the mirror. "I think you should kiss me."

She rolls her eyes. "You're trying to distract me."

"Trying? Failing, apparently."

She tears herself away from the mirror to come stand between his legs at the side of the bed. He brings his hands to rest on either side of her neck, which is draped with jewels that sparkle like water in sunlight. "Do you like the dress?" She nods, and he pulls her in for a long, languid kiss. "Then I like the dress, and I care extremely little for what everyone down there thinks of it or you."

He knows she cares, can see the protest in her eyes, but he also see the fight, the stubbornness he's fallen in love with every single day for years. "Alright. We can go down."

"Thank the gods." He slips down off of the bed. "Two more minutes and I was going to have to start eating you."

26. Prom setting this in grow with the flow! buckle the FUCK UP

It starts with a social media post—Vex's, to be specific. Vax groans, his phone hovering just a few inches above his face, and Keyleth turns her head away from the business email she's been writing and rewriting for the last half hour to ask, "What is it?"

"Look." And then the phone is shoved in her face, and she's looking at—

"Is that you?"

All limbs and sharp angles, a teenage Vax in an ill-fitting tuxedo, his hair slicked back with what must be an entire container of hair gel, gives a sultry look to the camera. He's back to back with his sister, who's wearing a shimmering blue strapless gown that makes her legs look a million miles long. They each wear a snowdrop, him on his boutonniere and her on her corsage.

"Is this your prom photo?" Keyleth snatches the phone, grinning from ear to ear, to look even closer. "You two look so good!"

"We look so dorky." Vax tries to grab the phone back, but Keyleth keeps it deftly out of reach. "Apparently, today's the tenth anniversary, and Vex decided to air our dirty laundry on social media."

Keyleth scrolls down to read the comments, and since Vax is tagged, the Grow with the Flow audience is having a field day. "Oh yeah, this is fun. It's half bullying you, half asking to have a threesome with you and Vex."

"Disgusting."

Keyleth finally returns the phone. "Did you guys at least have fun?"