#thunderfool

[met-in-a-tavern]

I got appointments, work I have to do

Keeping me so busy all the day through

They're the things that keep me from thinking of you

Oh baby, I miss you so, I know I'm never gonna make it

*squeezes his cheeks*

Rolcasta my loves. He is tolerating her so hard here (he is so down bad and neither of them know it)

[met-in-a-tavern]

I caved and put mods in Jocasta's game so I could bring everyone to the final fight 😭

And then I figured I might as well have some fun with the mods before I go 🤭

Right in front of the party, too? Rolan, so scandalous 🤭

[met-in-a-tavern]

Kissing Prompts: On A Scar

Rolan x Jocasta 🔥🔮

A sweet prompt from @malicedragoness for a kissing drabble! I flipped the script this time 🤭🤭

"Let's get you cleaned up." The rogue gently placed her hand on the wizard's shoulder as he stood over the broken body of his former Master. They were all covered in a fair amount of blood, but to her surprise, Rolan was smiling about it.

She wasn't entirely surprised, of course, but to see him looking downright giddy after the brutal fight that had even her wheezing, well, it made her smile at least. But for her, her first instinct was try to and mother. It wasn't her fault, she just defaulted to it. Making sure people were clean, fed, warm. It was what she did.

Rolan turned over his shoulder when he felt her touch, and smiled a little. "Alright. It will be nice getting out of these apprentice robes." He admitted, leaning back with a sigh to stretch his weary frame. Weeks of feeling on edge, tensing at the sound of footsteps, scrambling to pick up a book and look occupied.

Jocasta put her arm around him and walked him to the bath chamber. He didn't need the help to walk, she just... well, she wanted to. She began to warm the water with a small fire spell, and as it heated, she soaked a clean rag and rang it out.

"This whole place is yours, huh?" She commented, looking at the decorated walls of the Wizard's tower. "Never been inside a Wizard's tower before."

"Hard to believe it's a place I can call my own." Rolan admitted, peering at his face in the mirror. Two black eyes. A split lip. Bruised jaw. He was hardly the picture of health. He grimaced and turned away.

Jocasta sat on the rim of the tub and pulled him closer, gently, making him stand between her knees. "Slide those robes off," she said. "You need a wash."

Rolan hesitated, and she saw it. The singes on his robes, the fireball that had nicked him, burned his skin. He was all soot and ash and bruise, and it was hard to tell where it ended. Jocasta frowned. Rolan sneered at the wounds.

"I—" he started, looking shameful. "Lorroakan was—" he couldn't get the words right. He should have been able to stop this. All he had endured.

“Brutal,” she answered. “Horrible. Sadistic. I understand. It's nothing to feel ashamed of.” She clasped his shoulder, getting his attention back onto her. “He's gone now. You're safe.”

Her eyes drifted to the bruised ridges of his chest, the puckered marks of a burn scar singed across his skin. She moved the rag toward it, and he stopped her hands. A lot being said in no words at all.

“Hey,” she looked at him sincerely.

“Mas— er— Lorroakan burned me, one night. When I couldn't recall the components for the spell for Disintegrate. He, ah— he told me that if I couldn't learn, I was no use to him. And then he burned my chest to ensure I would remember. A lodestone and a pinch of dust. It's certainly not something I'll ever forget now.” A humorless chuckle came out, but the smile never reached his eyes.

Jocasta's face was a wash of sympathy and gentleness, and it was to the Wizard's entire surprise when she held him, gently leaning in. She moved slowly if he wanted to stop her, but when there was no resistance, she placed a kiss in the center of his chest, right across that burn scar. Rolan froze in place trying to watch her.

She peeked up at him with a sympathetic, warm little smile.

“Here. A better association than that old bastard.” She kissed him again. Her eyes spied his shoulder, another small mark. She kissed that too. And a nick on his chin. The bruise on his nose. His forehead. His horn. Each bruised cheek. The split lip, where she softly brushed her nose into his before she rested.

Rolan was reddened and breathless, his breathing hitched as he watched her every move. She wiped a small trace of ash from his cheek with the rag.

“Ah— I see— I believe you've made your point,” He replied in a low, warm voice.

“I've only just started. I think I've got many points to make.”

[met-in-a-tavern]

Flirting in Grymforge 🔥

Some Rolcasta I haven't posted yet because I forgot 🤭

Some flirting, Shy Jocasta, Tender Kisses, and then Rolan Gets Scooped 🥰💕🔥

[met-in-a-tavern]

Oooooooh Jocasta the Wizard Kisser 🫵🫵🫵🫵 She kissed the wizard, guys 🫵🫵✨️✨️✨️💙💙🫵🫵🫵

[wendynerdwrites]

Antifeminists are NOT hotter!

[wendynerdwrites]

Antifeminists are NOT hotter!