andhumanslovedstories:

andhumanslovedstories:

A cleric who is the Team Mom and only heals by kissing you on the forehead and buffs you by licking her thumb and rubbing away some schmutz on your face

someone’s like “you know that’s not actually required for your job” and she’s like “shhhhh my beautiful child, my healing my rules, I made you a potion, it’s chicken noodle mana” 

Their holy sigil is a macaroni necklace you made in second grade. You didn’t know them in second grade. You’re not sure how they got that macaroni necklace. You ask them about it, and they just slip you a twenty and tell you to get whatever you want at the food court. “What is a food court?” you cry, but it doesn’t matter because they summoned a hero’s feast and everything tastes wonderful, and at some point you crawl into their lap to cry about something you thought you were adult enough to handle. 

“This is you handling it,” they say. “You’re never too big to ask your mom for help.”

“You’re literally not my mother,” you sob.

“But metaphorically,” they say, and you’re like truuuuuuuuuu and sob a little more before they tuck you into a bedroll because you’ve got a big day tomorrow stopping an assassination at a royal palace