#anyways give us more paladins

[themostancientdreams]

He's trying his best to take care of his feral children paladins.

Honestly charlie deserves more credit because if I had to take care of twelve, much less three of his paladins I would've thrown myself out a window.

#Well tbf charlie did go insane and lost his mind later in life but we don't talk about it #charlemagne fate #charlie fgo #astolfo #roland fgo #roland fate #bradamante #anyways give us more paladins #also plz add Archimedes #fate series #fate grand order #fate apocrypha #fate stay night #fate extella link #twelve paladins of Charlemagne #Charlemagne paladins

[githvyrik]

my death cleric is supposed to be a side character but listen. I am having Thoughts about them okay

#like. they’re supposed to be a nasty freak. but what if they got a ✨redemption arc✨ #and then my pretty princess oath of conquest paladin character DOESNT. they become EVEN WORSE #bruh this world my bf made for this campaign is sooooo fucking cool it gives me such insanely weird but also good character ideas #as in we only use this character if only my bf and I can play in this one campaign #for like. worldbuilding #also btw #idk if you play tabletops I highly recommend doing just like. side stores #like side one shots #in the same setting with either the actual party or other side characters #it fleshes out the setting and characters more idk it’s fun #like. literally for some campaigns we have done like. filler arcs #which I honestly like a lot because you just do weird shit #and sometimes it contributes to the story like. I’ve run a few that drop hints about my final plans #and honestly you could try having another player DM in the same setting depending on the situation #idk. I’ve never really done THAT before bc it’s hard to do that but like #we do it in the campaign where we swap out the DM role. anyways #dnd

[stevieschrodinger]

Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part One

Part Two

PART THREE

"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."

"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"

"Yeah, like a series."

"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"

"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"

"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."

Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.

"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"

"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"

"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.

Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"

"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."

Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.

Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'

And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.

There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.

"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."

Steve's heart fucking melts.

Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.

"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."

"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"

"Yeah. Still not my thing-"

"Oh."

"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."

"...yeah?"

"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."

"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"

"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."

"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.

"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."

"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.

"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."

"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."

"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."

"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."

And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.

@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch

#eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #my fic writing #fan fic stuff #fic wip #ficlet #rock star eddie munson #baker steve harrington #dungeons and dragons

[sukisheadlights]

hey there!!! could you make headcanons for all the Voltron guys for when they realize that (she/her) reader is like actually someone they could date/ end up with? like they get turned on by something she did or something like that? you don't have to but thanks for reading anyway </3

Voltron Paladins realizing Reader is someone they could end up with!

req: yes words: 873 pairing: voltron x reader content: fluff a/n: I was actually planning on writing something similar so thanks for the ask anon! <3

Keith

Keith isn’t interested in love (until he realizes he can date you) BUT FOR THE MOMENT HE’S NOT!

Both of you are still determining when you got close as well. You protected him once in battle, and since then, you’ve just stuck together.

And he of course protects you when he can because he's grateful you saved his life.

So you guys became friends,,, that was news to Lance btw.

Slowly you let each other into your lives, and now you train together often.

You were never ‘better’ than him at fighting (you actually just made yourself lose sometimes) and Keith sometimes ‘lost’ to make you just a little happy (little did he know hehe)

But today? Oh, you weren’t playing that’s for sure. He was super confused at first, then he was impressed, and then he was turned on. Which is fair because you looked straight out of a magazine, the ‘hot’ sweaty and perfectly messy hair.

When did you get so hot?

And boom. He felt he was on earth again because realization hit him like a TRAIN.

You were his age, and you were hot, and you could totally be a thing. And wtf is wrong with Keith? He's never thought of you like this.

Yeah, so that’s that.

And then he gets all awkward around you, and you guys haven't had a training session together since then. He always conveniently has something to do when you try to ask him.

Goddamnit.

Lance

You’ve been friends with him since the good old garrison days.

You grew to like the dork’s presence

You’ve always known he’s flirty, that’s just Lance.

Getting you flowers (sometimes), flirting with you in the hallways, and even when you’re fighting with the galra.

You always rolled your eyes, scoffed at him, or brushed him off but today?

Violence

You were so ready to mess with him too

You woke up with mischief on your mind

And mischief you created

BECAUSE BECAUSE BECAUSE

OK SO

Lance was flirting with you while fighting the galra

And he expected you to react normally but nooooo

You flirted back

AND THEN YOU WINK AT HIM

SHOOT A GALRA SOLDIER

AND LEAVE !???!!?!!!?!?!?!!?!?

Lance MALFUNCTIONS

Like lance.exe has STOPPED working

DECEASED

Keith’s snickering in the background! (And Shiro too but he won’t admit that, for Lance’s sake)

“Shut it.” is all Lance says for like 10 minutes

You’re hot, He’s hot, and you guys could end up together

You’re a woman now

And you could have him ENTIRELY at his knees.

Hunk

Hunk misses earth

So much

He stops talking as much and wanders around the castle

He didn't think anyone noticed

But you did

And you felt SO bad for him

So when you stop at the mall to get teleduv lenses you seek away

And get the closest possible ingredients to make his favorite treat

Ice cream sandwiches (real)

You’re testing weird white heavy cream adjacent substances and so much more all for him

You might get sick

Oh well

You sneak back and he gives you a weird “Where were you?” look,

But you just ignore

And then you slave away in the kitchen and finally end up with something that’s ice cream sandwich adjacent 

“What’re you making?”

“Ice cream sandwiches”

“Oh for the team? You should have let me help”

“No”

Confused hunk

“It’s just for us” and you hold up an ice cream sandwich for him

His face LIGHTS up and he gladly accepts it

Then you guys sit on the floor and just talk about life and how both of you feel

All night.

It's freaking adorable

He realises how much he adores you, and how he absolutely loves you and all of your little quirks

It doesn’t even matter when the ice cream starts melting, he’d much rather focus on you and talk. Only occasionally taking bites when you do

Pidge

Pidge always knew you were datable

And an amazing person

But she started falling for you when the paladins were trying to tell her to not go find Matt

You stepped in a stood up for her, gaining Shiro’s support.

And then when she was ready to leave she saw you putting your stuff into your lion

“You don’t think I’ll leave you alone, do you?”

She knows it’s because someone will need to be there for her in case Matt is gone

But she doesn’t complain

It’s a silent brewing of love and appreciation

And she’s so grateful to have you in her life

Shiro

When Keith was confused and stuck without Shiro, you stepped up and found him

He was surprised at first

But you took care of him and helped him out as he got better

You were there for him to lean on. Always.

Literally and figuratively 

His appreciation turned into adoration and then his adoration turned into pure, genuine love

Once he was fully healthy again

He’d try to pay it back to you

By protecting you when you went against any threats

ESPECIALLY when you were out of your lion

And then it just becomes a thing where you protect each other

It’s adorable

He loves you and he protects you

And vice versa

Adorable, I say.

#voltron legendary defender #voltron #takashi shirogane #shiro x reader #keith kogane x reader #keith kogane #hunk x reader #pidge x reader #pidge holt #voltron pidge #lance mcclain #lance x reader #voltron legendary defender x reader #voltron x reader #voltron x you #ice cream sandwiches are amazing

[epiphyllous]

when morning comes (Astarion/Reader) [1]

With your bleeding heart and altruistic bravery, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his best plan of action is to seduce you. All he has to do is not fall for you-- a feat easier said than done.

-or-

(Where were you ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he needed you? How dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

Word Count: ~10k Notes: Astarion/Reader, Paladin!Reader, AFAB, gender-neutral "you", a study in Astarion's romance route + added features, [switches to your POV], annoyance to lovers, fall first/fall harder, slight Lae'zel/Shadowheart, Wyll/Lae'zel, Halsin/Reader; may have some descriptors of my Tav but generally no specifics (let me have my brown eyes), NSFW contains Virgin!Reader, trauma related to Astarion's past [Part 2]

[Act I: Druid Groves]

From the start, you and Astarion chafed at each other's presence. Granted, he had threatened you at knife point, quick to suspect you were of the illithid colony, and you had responded in kind with a painful headbutt. But surprisingly enough, that had nearly no consequence to the relationship compared to the vastly different way the two of you engaged with the world.

"Do you always just... do things for other people for no reward?" Astarion asks you disdainfully when you promise Zevlor you would speak to Kagha. It's the third favor you've picked up in the last hour. "Seems very... inefficient."

"Yes?" You reply, confused as though he were the strange one. (In his humblest opinion, you're the lunatic who decides to help everyone who asks despite the arguably more pressing issue of their hostile parasite.) "I mean, helping them is going to help us in the long-run. We need information and supplies, and they have both of that."

A half-truth at best. Astarion has seen you soothe stray animals and children on the beaten road, help wayward allies, and offer up your amenities without hesitation. Helping others happens to align with your goal rather than the other way around. He feels his mouth twist in annoyance.

Astarion sniffs at your answer, and you give him the massive eye roll you habitually do every time the two of you argue. "Would it kill you to help them out a little?" You say, "It's not like it's completely out of our way to do it."

You make it sound so simple, he thinks bitterly. He glances at the sword at your hip and the shield on your back and wonders if you could ever understand how it feels to be powerless. It would explain your naivety, the way you cling onto doing the 'right' thing, your paladin vow to protect the weak no matter how foolhardy it may be. 

(Where were you, he thinks, ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he was still surviving on the scraps of whatever Cazador decided to provide for him that night? Where were you when his cruel master carved into his skin, a painter on a screaming canvas? When he was buried underground, no longer alive but still living, until he clawed his way up with bloody hands, only to find out his body and soul belonged to another? When he was compelled by vampiric thrall to lead his first victim of thousands to their death?

And how dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

"It's a matter of principle, darling." Astarion simpers, "I, for one, am not the type to play hero."

He expects a sneer, the silent treatment-- those he knows easily how to respond to. The gauging look you give him, though, and a thin veneer of frustration just underneath before it dissipates gives him pause. "Well," you say mildly, "we can agree to disagree. You're coming along anyways so let's just get going, yeah?"

Astarion follows you then with no comeback in mind, only a question as to how far your patience can go.

.

.

.

It is with great hesitation and no small amount of begrudgement that Astarion admits he has never been one for planning. After all, why hope for a future that will never occur? What future does he have when every move he makes is in accordance to someone else's will, every decision made never his own? 

When Astarion decided to travel with the unfortunate duo (now group) with similar illithid fates, he did not anticipate how difficult it would be to hide his affliction of a vampire. For the brief moment in the sun, he thought perhaps that because he was immune to daylight, his thirst for blood would have also disappeared. Imagine his surprise, nights after, when he finds himself starving and with no inconspicuous way to feed himself. 

There is always someone on the lookout for goblins or other enemies alike. There have been few times he can sneak out without calling attention to himself, especially for such a long absence as hunting for prey would be. Astarion can feel himself grow weak over the course of a few days, and though he briefly thinks about telling you the truth about his identity, he is resistant. 

Good heroes tend to hunt creatures of the night like him. Considering his blatant disregard for those you choose to protect, he isn't sure he will continue to be under your protection if he is outed. Astarion finds traveling as a pack to be too conveniently safe, but he is so, so hungry. In the midst of his hunger, anyone's blood will do, but it is yours that tempt him most: healthy, righteous, and pure-hearted. He has never been allowed to feed on a thinking creature, and at this point, he isn't sure if he should, considering the risks.

But Astarion is tempted by the smell of your blood shed during a particularly fierce battle, and as he feels his hands tremble, he concludes that he must find a way to feed tonight.

You always, without fail, set your tent up near the fire. It is where he finds himself creeping over your bedroll at the dead of night only to find that you have woken up to look up at him in shock. (He has never been one for planning.)

"...Shit," Astarion lets slip out, backing away. You stand at the ready, eyes boring into him as you come to the realization of what he is. "No, no- it's not what it looks like."

 "...And what exactly is it supposed to look like then?" You ask tensely, and Astarion feels the situation quickly run away from him.

"I wasn't going to hurt you!” He puts his hands up and swallows. “I just needed, well, blood."

"You're the reason why that boar on the side of the road had no blood.” You realize, narrowing your eyes. "How many things have you hunted without us knowing?” You accuse, “People?"

"No!" Astarion exclaims, "No people. Never any people. I can sustain myself on animals, kobolds even-- but it is not enough. Not when we're fighting every day like this."

He sees a flicker of sympathy in your eyes and hope builds in his chest. "I feel so weak," he pleads. "If I just had a little bit of blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please."

You don't relax but you don't try to attack him either. Astarion considers that a winning chance. "Have you told anyone that you're a vampire?"

"They're more likely to ram a stake through my ribs than anything," Astarion mutters. "At best– even for you– you'd say no unless you trusted me." He looks up at you and sees the way your eyes look into him for the truth. "And you can trust me. I wouldn't want to harm anyone in this camp." And it is technically the truth, though Gale tests his patience sometimes. Even he cannot promise that he wouldn't betray everyone at the drop of the hat if the situation begs for it, but this is a completely different matter at the moment. 

Your gaze is unfaltering, the silence palpable as the two of you look at each other. Astarion feels his palms sweat as he awaits your judgment and for the proverbial hammer to possibly fall on his head. 

"Okay," you say instead. "Alright. I trust you. As long as you don't try biting me again without permission, it's fine. Can you promise me that at least?"

"Really?" Astarion knows this is what he could ever hope for, but a part of him is baffled that you would ever think to trust him. He supposes your foolhardy compassion has its benefits-- though he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit there was a part of him that was rather... flattered by your trust. "Yes- yes, of course. Thank you."

He presses his lips in thought. If you were so willing to put your faith in him, then perhaps it would not hurt to ask. "If I could ask you to trust me just a little further..." He says, "I just need a little blood. I won't take anything more than I need. Please."

Astarion can see the hesitation in your eyes when he asks. Are you weighing your trust in him, he wonders. Or are you worried about your safety, the benefits versus the risks? It would make sense-- you really shouldn't. But a moment before you respond, he somehow knows that you would. 

[He looks so tired, you think, heart clenching with sympathy. You wonder how you've missed it for this long or if he's that good at pretending otherwise in the presence of others. It could be both-- Astarion has shown to be a great performer, and you are one of his best audiences. You find it difficult to argue against letting him bite you; the anticipated pain, the possible negative effect, the case that his hunger is too much for you to quench all pales in comparison to what good you would do for him. 

You are halfway to being smitten already, and you cannot deny yourself this.

But you are not naive. You are not fearless. For whatever trust you give to Astarion, you are afraid of the fact that if he betrays you in this, you can never go back to how it was before.]

"Promise me you'll stop if I tell you to," you tell him quietly. 

He acquiesces quickly. Of course, he will, he promises, only just enough. You lay back down at his suggestion, body tense in anticipation. He does not let that feeling linger too long, seizing his chance before you decide to change your mind. He buffets your body with his arms before he sinks his teeth into your outstretched neck. 

You taste better than he could possibly have imagined. 

To think he fed solely on mice before-- bog water in comparison to the sweet red of your blood, invigorating and undeniably delicious. Astarion gets another mouthful and groans, feeling strength return, warmth pooling into his belly. If bears and boars were the main course, then you are the mouth-salivating dessert– irresistibly delectable and leaving him wanting for more.

Your body trembles underneath him, your hand clenched into his shirt as a counterweight to the pain. Your pulse bounds underneath his tongue, the small gasps you cannot suppress resounds into his ears. This, too, puts feeding in a different plane than before, an extra level of appeal that can only be experienced with thinking creatures. Perhaps it is you in particular that adds another layer to the pleasure. Having you at his mercy, taking what you so graciously offered with ravenous hunger: power courses through him for more reasons than one.

[Your heart beats as fast as a rabbit's, fear and adrenaline powering you in the same manner. Or, if you were being honest, anticipation and a little bit of excitement fuels it as well as Astarion climbs on top of you, hunger in his eyes. 

It is a more literal type of hunger, but it is an intense look either way that leaves you frozen like a deer in headlights. 

The bite itself is more shocking than it is painful. You barely muffle your exclamation, unused to the feeling of someone so intimately close combined with the instinctive fear that accompanies the loss of blood. You hold onto Astarion without thought, and you squeeze your eyes and bite your lips as he takes your blood in with every suck. 

As scared as you may be, you are undeniably aroused from the feeling of it all-- the numbness that gently overtakes your mind, the light, floaty feeling of pleasure of the bloodloss combined with the intimacy of someone you’ve always been attracted to. The knowledge that he is gorging himself on you, taking pleasure from you, makes your blood run hotter than it has any right to in this situation. 

And then, you feel a switch flip, and the lightness becomes disorienting, and the numbness bleeds into coldness. Panic starts climbing up your throat. You let yourself think for the briefest moment if Astarion will let go on his own, but you know you will not last long enough to wait. Worry gnaws at you at this thought, and you can only hope that Astarion is true to his word when you tell him to stop.

And he does. Perhaps it is the feeling that you have placed your trust in the right person that has felt the best out of everything that has happened tonight.]

"Astarion-" he hears you grit out, "that's enough."

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course.” It takes but a moment for Astarion to register it before removing his fangs from your neck. He sees blood trickle from the punctures and he bemoans the waste as he pulls away. Next time– if there is a next time– he'll be neater, he thinks. He watches as you breathe just as hard as him, eyes slightly glazed over, and he barely resists the urge to lick his lips. 

He stands from you to give you space, and you slowly sit up, looking at him with an emotion he can't quite place. It concerns him little at the moment with the strongest blood he's ever consumed in two millennia coursing through him.

“That was…” Astarion begins, breathless with adrenaline, “Amazing.” He delicately wipes the blood from the side of his mouth, an irrepressible smile on his face.

“Hope that helped,” you say, and he almost laughs at the understatement of two centuries.

“It very much did.” Astarion breathes in deeply. “My mind is finally clear. I feel… strong,” he nearly purrs. Happy.”

“Looking forward to seeing you fight then,” you say, hand at your neck as the punctures gradually close. You sigh, wiping your bloody hands onto the patch of grass. “Going out to hunt?” You ask like any other day.

“I am, darling.” He stands tall, head held high with a confidence he has not felt in ages. To think this is what he's been missing out on… “You're invigorating, but I'll need to get something more… filling,” he tells you, glancing back.

You give him a flippant wave of the hand, and he isn't sure if you are too tired to be wary of him or uncaring of the risk considering what you allowed him to do. “Good hunting,” you say genuinely before yawning. 

“I will. And-” You turn to him then, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion but still alert. Astarion pauses for a moment. “This is a gift, you know,” he says. “I won't forget it.”

He walks off into the forest after and finds easy prey to feast on. It's a shame it does not taste as good as you did, but he will make do and ride out the feeling of power for as long as he can. It is when he returns to camp with you fast asleep by the fire that Astarion realizes the emotion on your face was relief: relief that he had stopped when you had asked, and that he kept to his word. 

What a fragile thing trust is, to be put to the breaking point at a single moment in time. What if he had continued to consume and drink you dry? He suspects it would have rather dire consequences to your mortality and even worse effects to his relationship with you. It would be unsalvageable, he realizes, if he had not stopped when you had asked. For some things may be forgiven, but this would be reprehensible. 

Astarion finds that he understands you too well for his liking. How many times has he not been able to give consent? Wanted to say 'no' but forced to say yes? (Not knowing now how to say 'no' at all?)

For the sake of his own livelihood (the camp would kill him for your death), his budding relations with you, and a part of him that yearns for what he should have had, Astarion is glad that he was not greedy tonight-- and, as the day comes, for the following nights to come.

The pitchforks and torches do not come the next morning. Maybe it is because everyone else has their equally dangerous secret to hide or because of your influence on the camp. You are more concerned at how you would help him feed than afraid that he will hurt anyone. 

"Why, isn't it my favorite traveling companion," he says to you when you approach him.

"You mean tastiest,” you say back, and he knows you are truly well and beyond hard feelings if you can joke about it.

"Well, I suppose that as well.” He tells you, “Though you have been the only one I've bitten so there is no competition, really."

And to his surprise, telling you about Cazador, his ill-begot fate as a vampire spawn and its subsequent diet, is easier than he would have expected. You listen with a sympathetic but otherwise neutral ear that makes it easy for him– and he suspects everyone else– to confess their circumstances to you. He's rather surprised he's been able to “resist” for this long. Even Gale has confessed he has a literal living bomb inside him in the little time they've all spent together as a group. 

(It goes to show how much everyone has grown to trust you; even Astarion is starting to see what everyone else sees in you.)

“I don't mind you taking my blood once in a while,” you instruct him, “but you can't just do it to an innocent person.”

“And how about a guilty person?” Astarion asks slyly, gleefully watching as you saddle next to him with a similar smile. 

“Free real estate, I suppose,” you say nonchalantly. “Just ask before you bite me?”

“No more late night surprises, you have my word on that.” He smiles, fangs bared, and you don't even blink at the sight of them. 

.

.

.

In the druid grove, you pick up a few more favors from the locals, though at least you have begun to ask for aid for the road. Not exactly payment, though you are offered a reward anyways. Astarion thinks you are either very lucky people are desperate for help or very charming in that innocent, eager to do good type of way that compels people to be generous. It is not unlike Wyll, who joins your group of illithid-afflicted companions, as the Blade of Frontiers. 

Naturally, the two of you get along as like-minded individuals. Gale, too, gravitates toward you for your compassion, and Shadowheart trusts you for perhaps the same reasons. Even Lae'zel, who you often have problems speaking to without feeling intimidated, has come to begrudgingly accept you as the de facto leader of the group. You are, as Astarion suspected, strong in battle as you are in personality. 

He often forgets both, but he cannot be blamed. After he witnesses you stand up to Lae'zel for the sake of an intimidated tiefling, he sees you lose an argument against a squirrel. Astarion sees you send goblins off rooftops and speak to trolls with confidence, and then he watches as you ask him to unlock a barn door with raunchy sex noises simply out of morbid curiosity. 

It is in these moments-- apart from your heroism and startling sense of morality-- that you and Astarion are often on the same page. As long as it is not from the needy, you don't find it a problem to loot. (He thinks practicality plays a role in disturbing dead bodies for money and items, and your vow says nothing against it.) If it's for the sake of peace, you don't mind spinning half-truths and lies. (The lies he personally thinks you need to work on more but he is a master of deception so perhaps there is no comparison with him.)

Your curiosity knows no bounds, and it is in this, both you and Astarion take cheerful glee in raking chaos. 

"I don't know what I expected!" You say almost cheerily after the group defeats the unlikely couple of bugbear and ogre after purposely interrupting their very loud lovemaking. 

Shadowheart gives you a raised eyebrow that has you sheepishly grin at her, and Astarion lets out a laugh. "Well, I certainly had a guess, but finding out was very interesting indeed."

"Interesting... is certainly a way to describe the scene we just witnessed," Gale says dryly. Astarion catches your eyes before you smile slyly. 

Innocently, you comment, "I wonder how the mechanics worked with the height difference-"

Gleefully, Astarion is quick to join in, watching Gale balk at the topic, “Well, with the way she was on her knees-” 

"Some things need not be pondered!"

That is when Astarion realizes that as long as the world stops begging for your help, the two of you get along quite well. If anything, Astarion finds your presence and comments most amusing out of everyone in camp. Gale is exceedingly verbose and other times awkward. Lae'zel Astarion isn't sure knows the meaning of joking, though her violent tendencies are right up his alley. Shadowheart-- as it turns out and makes total sense-- is a worshiper of Shar and therefore an automatic stick in the mud. 

Wyll waxes far too much about justice, and Karlach, when they find her and proceed to not kill her despite Wyll's initial request, is the next best thing though he is still wary of how hot she burns. You, however, have the humor and wit to match every ridiculous situation they encounter, and if anything, Astarion must give you that. God knows how he'd survive the boredom of camp and not being arms deep in gore without having someone to gossip with. 

The two of you agree the most when it comes to other topics, like Mystra's treatment of Gale, how good Wyll looks with horns, feelings about Gods. It makes for great and easy conversations though the two of you are also quick to snark if there is a disagreement. Astarion admits his words were sharp in the beginning (and you gave it right back until you just mellowed out) but he eventually relaxed when his role in camp solidified after his vampiric reveal.

And what a gift your blood was; Astarion counts his lucky stars that you continue to offer your neck to him as long as it is only yours he bites-- with permission, of course.

He was almost beginning to relax when a gur comes, asking for him.

Luckily enough, it seems this Gandrel has no idea what he looks like, so the two of you can play innocent together. You and Astarion give each other a discrete look before you go back to talking to the monster hunter. It must be Cazador, he seethes. Who else would put a Gur on his tracks acres away from Baldur's Gate? 

"And what did you want to do with this vampire spawn?" You ask innocuously.

"I would like to capture him."

"Capture? Not kill? Does someone want him alive?" You question, and Astarion must give you this: you are an excellent conversationalist, to seek more without giving much at all. Your eyes widen in what can be assumed as surprise, though they remain calculating. "You said so yourself: even vampire spawn are dangerous. Why would you accept a job to capture him?"

The gur shuffles his feet for a moment, chewing on his words. Astarion watches in secretive awe as you urge the hunter to trust you with unbidden information. "Well... It's not a request from an outside source..." He trails off, "We... have questions we were hoping he would answer."

Now that's curious, Astarion thinks. What would a monster hunter need for a spawn besides its demise? He knows you have the same question when he glances over at you as you watch on thoughtfully.

"Were you hoping to capture it to get to the vampire lord or something?" You ask, "Is that something that would even work?"

"We have little leads besides this vampire spawn, if I can be frank." He sighs and Astarion watches as he unravels the truth before you. "It's our children, you see. They've been captured.”

You are ever sympathetic to the Gur's plight--genuinely so. You hold no qualms keeping Astarion's name from your mouth but you speak to the Gur and provide him with advice and information you have received from Astarion. What a cheeky pup you are, playing double agent without batting an eye. Astarion feels like forgiving you for taking away the opportunity to get rid of the monster hunter once and for all just for the show of your wit and guile. 

Though Astarion thinks you could afford to be more ambitious. If you could have perhaps a little creativity in deciding what you want to do with the little tadpole in your brain or the absolutist cult, Astarion is sure the two of you would get along more.

"I don't know how the tadpole will change me," you admit with unexpected vulnerability. "I don't want to give them more power over me, and I don't know if feeding them will let them."

"Well..." Astarion pauses, scoffing at your response before he can accept the fact the two of you have more in common that he would rather believe. He'd rather not lose what he barely got back as well, he thinks. "I suppose there is reason to hesitate so maybe I'll wait until some other brave soul decides to give it a go." He gives you a look before continuing, "Try not to convince the others too much. I'm not too eager to be the first and only one to eat a tadpole."

You shrug noncommittally, promising nothing. Astarion barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. Paladins. 

.

.

.

Considering the dire straits in which you are bound and the rocky start the two of you had, Astarion would not have imagined the relationship with you to progress in this manner. Having you trust him was already beyond what was expected, especially after revealing his vampiric origins. Giving him your blood was a gift that he could hardly believe happened. One can imagine his surprise when he finds out you are charmed by his wits, finding genuine joy in his wry commentary. 

For god knows why, you have grown fond of him-- he can see it in the way you provide him with the best equipment, the way you seek his presence. The way you laugh freely around him and turn your back to him during battle, believing he will defend it. Though arriving at this point was coincidental, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his next step is to seduce you. 

Astarion sees your laughter, but he also sees the way you throw him glances when you think the others aren't looking. You instinctively lean closer to him when he is near and when he speaks, your eyes are quick to find him. You are attracted to him– and he means to capitalize on it and make you feel as though you would rather die than have him get hurt.

It's a simple plan, really. The seduction comes easy; all he needs to do is stay unattached, so if things go wrong, he'll find someone else to take cover under. 

(The plan should be simple-- he has learned tactics that would put any to their knees, tricked hundreds of people of his affections. But something about doing this to you-- this performance-- makes him uneasy. 

It's a shame, he finds himself thinking. He thinks he was beginning to like you too.

The thought lingers only for a moment. He is quick to push it from his mind; that too is a learned habit.)

Astarion finds his opportunity after the goblin camp has been slain and the tieflings throw a celebration in thanks. 

The wine is mediocre at best, but there is much of it to be shared, so the party is still in full blast when the moon is overhead. He finds himself a secluded part of camp to sip at the sorry excuse of a liquor, discomfited by the praise they give him for participating in the fight against the goblins. 

You are unused to the praise as well, humble as you are, but you are nearly glowing from the joy you feel as you make merry with those you have befriended. The rest of the party, even companions who were ambivalent at best at the idea of helping the tiefling immigrants, are satisfied with the outcome despite the lack of progress with removing the tadpole. He would say otherwise– the trade of goblin lives for tieflings hardly makes a difference, and surely the goblins would throw a wilder party than this. He says as much to you when, faithfully, you find your way to him to talk.

“All I want,” he tells you, “is a little bit of fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You snort into your drink. “Knowing you, it could be.”

“Don't be so sour,” he croons. “I like a good time as much as anyone.” His eyes fall half-lidded as he looks at you. You raise your brow at him, noticing the change in tone as he continues. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment."

The look you give him is partly apprehensive and the other amused. He knows that glimmer of recognition of what he is asking, though you are quick to hide it for plausible deniability. "...What do you mean by that?"

Astarion, with practiced ease, leans in, watching as you instinctively do the same before he purrs out, "Why, sex, of course. Experiencing a little death, figuratively speaking, is quite fun, wouldn't you agree?"

Your face is already flushed from the alcohol, but your cheeks on high brighten in the dimly lit torches at his tent. It's evident you didn't expect him to suggest something like that, especially to you, though you are not completely unwilling if the lack of immediate denial is of any indication.

You are rendered speechless though; a first for you considering how quick you often are at retorting back at his comments. It makes Astarion think of two conclusions: you are either inexperienced or incredibly shocked at his offer. Both are familiar, though the thought of your naivety extending into sexual relations does, at the very least, give him pause.

It is not as if he has never been someone's first. Virgins are often most eager to lose or prove themselves in someone so willing to offer bliss. If you are one, well– the shy ones are always the ones that are easier to fell.

He prepares himself to drop a few one-liners to convince you to take the offer, but you glance away for a moment before you turn toward him, face unreadable.

"If you're down," you say. You smile.  "I don't mind."

"Until later then," Astarion replies easily. "Wouldn't want the others to interrupt, unless you're interested in that."

At this, you laugh, and he relaxes. "Definitely not. Though, I'm curious." You ask, "Am I your first choice, or am I just the first to say 'yes'?"

Astarion finds the best lies are in truths. "Lae'zel was quite eager to find a partner earlier. Luckily she and Wyll are in quite the agreement for tonight as far as I can hear and I have no desire to get in between whatever the githyanki has in store." He smiles slyly at you. "Besides, I couldn't help but overhear you flirting with our druid earlier so I at least knew you were in the, ah, mood. Never imagined you'd be quite so bold." 

"It's the alcohol," you mutter, rubbing your cheek. You take the wine from his hand and take another swig. "Also, I didn't realize he'd be coming with us so that was a surprise. Almost as much of a surprise as you asking me." You glance at him briefly. "Well, sort of."

Astarion feels a familiar prickle of suspicion as he stares at you, already unamused at whatever dirty truths you have prepared for him. "What is it now?"

You quip a half smile, eyes bright under the torch fire. (Your eyes are brown.) "Nothing," you say teasingly. "Guess you do like me a little bit."

Astarion watches as you walk away, feeling less victorious than he imagined himself to be.

The flirting, the seduction, the fight for survival is familiar. The banter, the bickering, the camaraderie between the two of you is beginning to be just as familiar. Astarion feels just the slightest bit unease at how true your words are. 

.

.

.

Astarion has much to prepare for the night, so it is lucky that you take center stage of the party, as the savior of the grove. You take part in the merriment and make conversations, taking genuine interest in the stories others tell. The tieflings keep you busy for the most part, but Astarion is nothing if not good at building anticipation, putting as much heat into his gaze as possible when you do have time to take a glance at him. 

You are quick to focus your attention elsewhere after giving him a look, but the smile on your face that stays means that at least he is always on your mind. In some ways, he has missed this... coyness, the thrill of the chase. The results of his previous endeavors never fail to unease him, but with you, it is different. The familiarity of seduction comes with a little bit more fun knowing you are not going to be his victim- not like it usually is. 

"Hey, still not joining in on the fun?" You suddenly ask him, your hand gently prying at his arm so you can hook onto him. You have gotten more drunk in the time you were away, the warmth of your skin seeping into him from where you've attached yourself. Your face is almost comically red if not for the carefree smile on your face and the affection that betrays on your face when you look at him.

Something in his chest warms at the sight of you.

"Unfortunately, the tieflings' company has not become any more appealing since you've been gone. Besides," Astarion says slyly, "the only thing I've been thinking of is how you'll taste later when we're alone."

You let out a huff, turning your head away with a half-embarrassed and pleased smile. "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

"Not at all," he replies easily. "It's the truth, after all." 

You look at him as though you don't believe a word, but you are charmed by them anyway if your expression is of any indication. As conscientious as you normally are, the alcohol and the fact you are delving into his territory of seduction puts you at a disadvantage. Even if you are the one that knows him best in the camp, you are not attuned to every secret. Half-truths and lies come easier than anything else, if only because it allows him to keep his distance.

When the camp is cleared and you linger to bid the others farewell, Astarion slips away to the lake to prepare. It is almost ritualistic the way he cleans himself, the cold waters readying himself for what comes next. He thinks of what lines to tell you, how he should appear to you to best whet your appetite. Are you chaste or are you more animalistic? Would you prefer to take a dominant or submissive role? Astarion cannot tell these things about you based on his interactions with you, so he can only rely on his flexibility and years of experience to get him through it. 

(For a brief moment, he wonders if this is something he must do. What if you would protect him regardless of how this night goes? You are compassionate, sympathetic to the plight of others-- goodness flows within your veins like the light that beacons from your holy sword. Could that light not shield him too, without his body as an offering?

But gods are rarely so magnanimous, no matter the sacrifices. Astarion will not take his chances even with you. 

Even then-- even then, he wants this night to be at least a little enjoyable. It is with you, after all. If there is someone who can allow him to feel safe, it is you.)

Moonlight beams above, and Astarion hears your quiet footsteps come closer. His expression masks into something more suitable for seduction and he steps from the shadows of the trees to greet you. 

Upon seeing him, you yelp in surprise and- god, can you blame him?- he jumps as well. 

"What in God's name-"

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't expect to see you half naked all of a sudden!" You stammer, "I mean, not all of a sudden, I guess. Your... state of undress didn't cross my mind as something I'd see right away."

It is reckless when his mark is so close to fruition, but he finds himself dropping the act, hand at his hips in an instinctual indignant huff you seem to invoke from him easily. "Darling, what did you expect after the invitation I gave?" Your sheepish grin is your only answer, and Astarion feels a quick flash of annoyance at how easily you are able to derail his thoughts. 

Quick to redirect the conversation though, Astarion angles his body sensually, lowering his voice in the manner he knows can send shivers down his victims. "Perhaps you'd prefer if you could strip me down yourself?"

Like clockwork, your cheeks flush pink even as you roll your eyes in attempts to salvage your embarrassment. "Only you'd be able to pull those lines out of nowhere," you mutter, and Astarion allows himself the satisfaction when you approach him, eyes looking down at him appreciatively.

Only a small gap lies between the two of you now, your dark eyes meeting his. You are waiting on him; Astarion does not hesitate. 

He takes your face into his hands and brings his lips to yours. Your eyes close almost immediately to the touch as you give into him, face tilting up to align with him and mouth parted to allow him in. Though Astarion knows not how you incline to be normally, he knows that this night, he's the one in control.

Your hands curl into the front of his chest as though you do not know where to touch, so he helps you along and pulls you in until there is nothing separating you. Astarion can see the way your eyes widen when you can feel his arousal beneath his trousers, and recognizes your interest with the way your pupils darken your eyes. 

There is a slight satisfaction in seeing you this way. As stubborn as you are, you are malleable in his touch, opening up to his hands like a flower in bloom. He lifts you up against the tree, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist in response, and your little giggle morphs into a gasp of pleasure when he grinds into you fully. 

It is probably instinctual the way you arch your back and bare your neck to him. It isn't in him to resist the temptation to bury his nose into the crook, nipping at the sensitive skin between your collar bone. And this is when he feels your hands, that were curled into his hair, push him back slightly, and his stomach drops. 

He should be worried that he made a mistake and think about how to put you back on track with him. His safety depends on his success, after all. Despite himself, Astarion feels more hurt at your rejection, your mistrust, than anything. (Since when did that ever matter to him?)

"I wasn't going to bite, you know," he says, hoping nothing in his voice gives anything away.

"No, that's not it," you tell him, and your hand is quick to cup his face reassuringly. He finds himself soothed by your gesture though he wishes he was not in need of it in the first place. "I trust you not to without my say. I mean, you probably could tonight if you wanted..." You trail off. "I just wanted to let you know something before we go any further." 

The offer for blood pleases him more than it should, as does the affirmation of your trust. "Whatever you want to say, darling, I doubt it'll deter me from having my way with you tonight," Astarion says, eyes half-lidded and staying strong despite the undignified huff you give him. 

"Well, alright," you say as you try to save face. You brush over his collarbone with your thumb as you think. You're nervous, he realizes, over whatever you have to say, and he can't begin to guess what you could possibly reveal that would be of such import to leave you in such a state. "I... have never-- this is my first time. Having sex," you say, and Astarion does his utmost not to show any semblance of surprise. 

"I hope," you continue, "that's okay? You'll probably have to show me a lot of things but, you know..."

You are a virgin after all. Astarion had some thoughts on the matter but he never truly took stock in it considering how rare it is to save yourself for this long. You were modest but far from prude, and you had thoughts of debauchery like any other in the camp. But you are of untouched flesh. Inexperienced. And yet you accepted him to be your first? 

You are not so unique that he has never bedded someone like you, but it does tweak his heart in a way it has not for a long while that you are giving yourself to him as a result of his seduction. You feel self conscious about this inexperience, and it would be easy to take advantage of that for his benefit. Typical, even.

The thought does not sit well with him.

"I know you wanted a fun night," you tell him, eyes downcast when he does not respond. "So I get it if you're not interested anymore since I'm probably going to be a lot of work-"

"And what’s to say we cannot have fun while discovering something new?" Astarion interrupts in a momentary panic. He's not on autopilot but he's not stopping the night from happening despite your deference- so what is he doing? "Darling, I'm rather concerned you want to spend your first night with a vampire-" He needs to get back on script.

He recites the words in his mind. Isn't this what you want? To lose yourself in me? And all he has to do is say it-

"No, that's not-" You talk back, frowning. "You being a vampire has nothing to do with it. When you asked, I said yes because I trust you, vampire or not." 

To have and to hold, he thinks, and wonders how you have survived for so long being so willfully trusting when at times you should not. "Then trust me, darling," he says, heat building in his chest. He lifts you up again and growls. "Let's have some fun. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"If that's what you want," you breathe out, and Astarion claims your mouth with his own.

You let out a sigh when he begins to undress you, his dexterous hands easily removing every lace and button to leave you bare. You giggle into his kiss, and Astarion lets himself smile, being pulled along as you roll on top of him playfully, mischief in your eyes. You full on laugh when he rolls you back over, uncaring of the outdoors, bearing your neck for him to bite. 

Astarion doesn't remember the last time he's had fun doing this. And it is fun- always has been with you, he realizes, a type of levity that he has not experienced with anyone else. He takes leisure in biting you, sucking a mouthful of blood that has him moaning into your neck as he rolls his hips into you. Your hand gently cards through his hair as he bites, and true to his word (only taking just enough), he pulls back with blood on his lips before swooping down to share in his bounty. 

He cannot help but laugh when you stick out your tongue at him, nose wrinkling at the metallic taste of blood that is otherwise sweet to him. He pulls his remaining clothes off and smirks when he sees you follow the line of sight down to his hardened cock in compulsive curiosity. 

"Like what you see, darling?" 

You make a noncommittal hum as you sit up, quick as you are unbothered by your nakedness. "Can I?" You ask, gesturing toward him, and he would find it amusing for you to ask if not for how eagerly you grasp his member at his nod.

Astarion hisses in pleasure as you pump his cock, getting into an easy rhythm with your thumb sliding deliciously on the tip of it. He watches as you gather spit to smoothen the pace, hand delicately pushing your hair from your face, and feel arousal melt into his belly like molten lava. 

"Why, it seems you have a little bit of experience in this matter, or are you just talented?" He asks and earns himself a coy look. 

"Just twice," you say, twisting your hand in a way that has him rolling his hips. "Hold my hair, will you?" 

Astarion is quick to follow your orders-- almost instinctively-- and before he has a moment to ponder on that, he is throwing his head back when your mouth swallows his cock in wetness and heat.

Most of his so-called lovers were more eager to be pleased than please; it makes sense that you would be different with the way you are. Your eagerness is quite adorable, as is your earnestness to provide him pleasure. Astarion revels in it, ecstasy climbing up like a tidal wave.

"That's enough, dear," Astarion purrs. He sees you look at him with a protest on your lips, and he continues, "I'd much rather continue this while I'm inside you." 

Based on your expression, you are more than thrilled at the aspect. 

Astarion guides you to lay down as he climbs over, hands carving a path over your curves and into your heat. He is careful to not scrape his fangs over your bosom, though he suspects you would not mind it in the least with how roughly he plays with your nipples to elicit a moan. You are dripping by the time he is done preparing you. 

It does not take much resistance to enter you fully. You let out a short cry, reaching out to him instinctively for comfort as your body adapts to him. True to your words, you are tight beyond measure, squeezing his cock as though you are determined to milk him for what he's worth. You pant into his ears, hands grasping over his shoulders as you ease into the feeling of him. 

The moment you nod, Astarion begins to move steadily. It is easy for the both of you to lose yourself in the pleasure, and it is these moments that he feels himself drift away, and the feeling of dread settles in.

Any type of intimacy takes him acres away, the gasps and moans that was music to his ears fading into numbness. He hardly knows what he's doing, except to know that he's doing well enough, hands playing at your clit as he moves at a persistent rhythm.

Astarion wishes it were different. Sex is fun, especially with you, if only it didn't make him feel as though he were fighting for his life. Every stroke calculated, every climax comes with a price. You are not to be taken back to Cazador, but it still feels like he's going to. 

You tighten around him, and he knows you are about to come just as he is. He lets out a grunt and persists through a rapid pace before feeling your body jolt in pleasure. He soon follows after, head upon your shoulder as he shudders into his climax. 

The night is still young; why don't we go back to my place for more? 

Won't you come home with me? We need so much more time to get to know each other.

His next lines come too easily for him that it makes him sick.

A hand pulls at his cheek rather cheekily and Astarion finds himself coming back from the haze. He lifts his head to look at you, face relaxed from pleasure but still otherwise amused. 

Is it ridiculous to think that the sight of you makes him feel safe?

"That," you begin, "was crazy. Sex is like that, huh?" 

"Be welcomed to the land of the living, darling," Astarion says. "I fear you have been missing out on one of the finer parts of life."

"Well, it's not like I've never orgasmed before," you tell him, "but I guess it is pretty different with someone else." You sigh when Astarion removes himself from you. "Thank you for being so patient with me."

"No need to mention it, darling," he says, finding it easy to relax with the banter, "though I dare say it did not take very long for you to be prepared. Why, I'd even call that a record for getting as wet as you did-"

"Hey!" He avoids your playful slap with ease as you pout at him. "I... I have no comeback to that, except maybe you're welcome."

"I'm welcome? I should be the one saying that to you. I'm rather magical in bed, don't you think?"

"I don't know if your neck could support a head that big if I agree with you." You laugh, flipping your hair away again. For a moment, Astarion has the urge to take it upon himself to brush the stray strands from your face, but he does not. "By the way," you continue, "are you okay?"

Astarion blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you just seemed a little..." You stop before shaking your head. "No, never mind. You seemed a little far away but what would I know."

His heart lurches. "I had to make sure I didn't lose control," he says carefully. He clears his throat and goes for levity. "Who knows if your fragile, virgin body can handle it?"

Astarion is grateful you take the line for how it is, quick to come up with a haughty retort, the banter easy to fall back to. You are adamant on being sturdy enough and not one to waste a chance, he proposes a long night of lovemaking-- if only to cinch the deal with you. After all, he thinks as your legs close around his head, this is all part of his plan: seduce you and win your protection. Nothing more, nothing less.

He tries not to think how sex for once, as he nips playfully at your thigh, has been enjoyable. 

.

.

.

The sun wakes him up before anything else. It is unfamiliar to him, even at least a month beyond the time when his deathly aversion to sunlight has disappeared. The warmth of the morning rays, the light that dawn brings-- Astarion did not realize how much he had missed it until he had felt it again. 

He almost isn't sure if he can ever go back to never feeling it again.

He stands to bask in it fully, glancing over to his side to watch your sleeping figure for a moment. You are curled up in your own clothes-- and his shirt as well, he remembers, having a little play fight over it before you eventually let exhaustion take you. The ache in his body from last night is familiar at least, and he stares at you, waiting for the dread to come-- but it does not. 

How curious. Only good for his plans if everything is more palatable, of course, but it is... unexpected for him to feel so at ease. He decides not to question it, using this moment of strangely acquired peace to face the sun in its entirety.

Your voice filters in after many minutes, a little scratchy from slumber. "You awake already?" 

"It isn't exactly the break of dawn, dear," Astarion replies, and he shoots a glance back expecting your usual deadpan, but you are rubbing your eyes sleepily instead. A thought comes to mind that he has never seen you in your first waking moments: you are rather unguarded, movements leisurely and expression soft still. It's quite... cute. "I'm rather surprised you're awake. I thought you'd be exhausted from last night."

You let out a titter behind your hand at this. "Yeah, well, everything aches in different ways than a fight, so it's not too bad." You yawn. "Still sleepy though," you mumble, looking up at him through the gaps between your fingers as you block the sun from your eyes. 

"Say," you begin, and Astarion realizes belatedly that the reason you were looking so intently at him was because you saw his back. "Can I ask about those markings on your back? Are they scars?"

"A poem from my old master," he replies facetiously. "Or so I assume. He carved it all into my back in one night." His lips purse. "He made a lot of revisions."

"I'm sorry," he hears you say with sympathy in your voice, and he knows he must quickly move on from this topic. 

"It's fine," he says abruptly. "It doesn't matter now. I'm free and far from Baldur's Gate. And he'll never control me ever again."

"Good," you say, and he wonders if putting warmth into your words comes naturally to you.

"Yes, it is." He pauses. "May I have my shirt back? Not that I mind being half nude, by the way- if only to let everyone know exactly what went on last night."

"Don't even joke," you sputter, tossing his shirt- miraculously clean- to him. "I don't kiss and tell! And they'll definitely know, but not the details!”

.

.

.

In the morning glow, nothing much has changed. As predicted, the entire camp is in-the-know of whomever slept with who. Astarion is quick to inquire Lae'zel about her tryst with Wyll, only to find, to the mutual disappointment, that he spent most of the time talking about his feelings. Shadowheart, on the other hand, was more than happy to share her wine last night. 

"Shadowheart mates like she fights," Lae'zel says. "Precisely and aggressively."

"Which is a good thing, I assume."

"Immensely." Lae'zel pauses then in breaking down her tent to look at him intently, which, for the githyanki, is as terrifying as anything. "I see you and our paladin decided to explore each other's bodies last night."

"Why, yes, thank you for noticing. It was quite the exploration," he responds, opening his mouth to elaborate.

"I suppose even you have your charms," she tells him instead, and the conversation ends there.

(Astarion hopes to glean more conversation elsewhere to no luck. Your talk with Shadowheart this morning is brief ("Lae'zel, huh."/"Astarion."/"Yep."), and Karlach's put-out expression is enough to give sympathy and a wide berth. Astarion sees Gale gazing upon the visage of his goddess again and turns the other way.)

The camp dynamic stays strangely the same. It is to Astarion's benefit, for he was comfortable with how the way things were, though he is more generous with the pet names for you. Halsin joins the fray, and they make their way to the mountains upon Lae'zel's insistence. 

In the midst of adventure, Astarion finds that you seek his presence more often. His night invitation seemed to open an avenue up for you to be more comfortable in doing so. Astarion finds he doesn't mind it; your camaraderie is most enjoyable in the too quiet camp and as far as "seducing" goes, you are doing half the work for him. 

Your gaze holds some heat for him once in a while when the moon is high and the fire burns low, but you have not asked him for another night. He is neither pleased nor displeased at the notion, because your affections for him are as clear as day. He knows you would say yes in a heartbeat if he did propose another night together, but he rather likes the late-night conversations he often has with you, a type of intimacy that borders on his comfort zone-- exciting and enjoyable without the unnecessary reminders of his past. 

Still, he sometimes finds himself recalling his night with you fondly. It's strange: he's gotten on his back ten thousand times or more and forgotten half of them, but his time with you, he knows he will remember. 

Astarion puts the thoughts of "why" (why you? Why are you different? What makes you special?) behind him for now. A treasure hunt for the Blood of Lathander (as if you needed to shine even brighter), a stolen githyanki egg (Lae'zel keeps it safe in her backpack), and an escape from a créche later, Astarion is more than happy to find refuge in the underdark, which proves to be more beautiful than any of them could imagine.

Something makes him look over to you then, and he watches as you take in the sights with wonder in your eyes, the gentle darkness cradling your face in its dreamy blue glow.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #astarion/reader #astarion bg3 #will there be a second part? who knows #i black out and suddenly there is 10k words

[thedegu]

Tag yourself, what you bring when you go out:

Bard: Alongside the necessities, you always bring either a musical instrument and/or a full makeup set. You never know when a party might start! Your bag is either $2 or $200. You make it work either way. Essentials? eh, if they're in there, they're in there.

Barbarian: phone wallet keys. Pants have pockets for a reason. If you're feeling spicy, you'll have a multi tool on your Keychain

Cleric: At LEAST one first aid kit, two lip balms snacks and drinks, bug spray and sunscreen for you freinds who forgot to put it on. Your purse weighs as much as a neutron star, but at least it's cute!

Druid: same as cleric, but you, instead of a purse, use one of those huge reusable grocery bags. More emphasis on snacks than the first aid kit (someone else will probably have that coveted, right?) But you might also have some loose dog treats in the bottom of your bag, so pay attention when snacking.

Fighter: You carry a backpack or over-the-shoulder duffel, but your phone wallet and other essentials are kept in your pockets because it's easier to access. What do you keep in your bag? Well, at least one knife and assorted tools and emergency supplies. You keep on forgetting to put in that first aid kit, but then you'd probably need to take out that 75 piece screwdriver kit, which, tbh is more useful in more situations.

Rainger: Look, you HAVE a bag, or... had one... you just leave it at home more often than you remember it. Look, you don't really need your phone when you're on a hike, right? And the trail mix in your pocket should be enough, too. Or you have a fanny pack that is more akin to a benign tumor. There is no in between.

Rogue: Just.... so many pockets. Like, sewing extra pockets into the inside of your jacket. Like "How did you fit that sub sandwich inside of there" pockets. Like you somehow have all of the tools you need for any reason on your person at any time without a bag amount of pocket. When you're fully suited up, your clothes work as a weighted blanket. It's honestly impressive and slightly terrifying.

Paladin: Like.... a bag?? Over the shoulder with RFID protection. Nothing too fancy either, phone, wallet, keys. Snacks and a small tube of sunscreen and maybe a hand warmer in the winter. Just get the job done, if you need something more you'll take it when you need it.

Wizard: You got the backpack on sale. That's what matters to you. Never mind how it makes your back hurt or that it's falling to pieces. It holds your books and laptop and.... ah, hm, everything else you need. Oh! It does have a cool wallet compartment... just let me... oh, it's so hard to get to give me one second... really, I do have the cash for this coffee. I swear one... oh, there goes my thesaurus.

Warlock: bags are meant as a fashion statement over their utility. Yeah, I can only fit my phone or my wallet in it, but I look good doing it, so what does it matter. Black is always in season, and so are chunky boots and spiked collars. Well it's not like you'll be going out without your freinds, you might as well have them hold your things, they honestly shouldn't trust you with your own credit cards anyway so it's a win-win

Sorcerer: You have one of those electronic bags that fallows you, and you've never looked back. Yes, it might be risky. Yes, taking a full luggage bag everywhere is a bit excessive. But if it does get stolen, the glitter bomb inside will make everything worth it. Hm? Where do you keep essentials? Oh, front pants pocket and brest pocket nbd.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #tag game #tag meme #bag #purse

[idonthaveanyurlideas]

How The Fuck Do Classes At Aguefort Work

AKA Brennan gave me a number of students for this school and I am going to use my expert knowledge of being a teacher in real life to extrapolate things

(disclaimer: i am australian and thus my knowledge is limited to the australian school system of how things are arranged, number of students in each class, etc. this is basically how I would organise aguefort if it were up to me)

SO

aguefort has approximately 500 students split across four year levels, making for about 125 per year level, which you could easily split into 5 'homeroom' classes of about 25 students each. Or 31-32 if you wanted to squish them into 4.

But the thing is, we have all the DND Classes to think about, with each class having its own dedicated teacher and specialist class. There are 12 standard dnd subclasses, plus we know that artificer is also an option, making 13.

It's unlikely that any particular year level has all of its students evenly split between those classes (it would be an average of 9-10 per class if they did, which is quite small for a single class, but not unheard of for (using a real life example) elective subjects like business or design tech)

ADDITIONALLY, we do know that 'regular' classes exist at aguefort, like history and home ec, so I'm assuming other typical subjects like maths, english, science (perhaps broken down into chem/bio/physics, maybe not), maybe PE as well for students that aren't part of one of the martial classes, among other things.

Most likely, the school day is arranged so that each student (assuming this student has a typical workload, AKA nothing absolutely bonkers like what the bad kids are doing in junior year) has at least one Class-Specific class per day, and then some general education ones as well, and then perhaps some more adventuring-focused classes like survival + archery or arcana.

That way each class-specific teacher should be able to fit one lesson with each year level a day, because those classes are probably considered far more important than like. Modern History.

DND-Class classes are likely much smaller and more individualised, and then general ed classes would be with a far bigger group.

I also think Aguefort has a lot of composite classes! Particularly for the less popular Dnd-Classes. Freshman+Sophomores together and then Juniors+Seniors together is probably the most common.

I think sorcery classes are often composites, partly because its one that students Literally have to be born to be able to do, so its not one that other students can multiclass Into, so its numbers probably fluctuate a bunch depending on the cohort.

More technical classes like artificer are probably also composites! Simply because I bet they're less popular than things like Fighters, Rogues, so on.

Bards are also absolutely composites, because they are already split within themselves with multiple teachers depending on the students particular focus (like we did with a separate Music class and Dance class with different bard teachers). So I wouldn't be surprised if some bard classes contain freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors all within the one class and still only have like, ten students total because they're that specialised.

I think combined classes also probably happen on a fairly regular basis. Esp if like, teachers call in sick. The fighters will go join the barbarians for a day, or the clerics will join the paladins.

And then of course they don't actually give a shit if you show up to your classes or not so theres probably some poor admin staff out there who painstakingly arranges every schedule at the start of each semester and then 80% of students ignore half of it anyway

#dimension 20 #this is an incredibly niche rant that probably doesnt even make any major exciting points #but class arrangement is something im passionate about #and the idea of composite and combined classes at aguefort is very fun

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Keith?”

Keith hums. “Yeah, Lance?”

Lance doesn’t answer right away. Keith can hear his breathing, quicker than everyone else’s, if only slightly. After all they’re the only ones awake. Everyone else is conked right out, curled up around the low-burning embers of their campfire. He’s quiet long enough that Keith is half-convinced that he isn’t actually awake, and only called out for Keith in his sleep.

(Keith couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face if he tried. He doesn’t try, though. The idea of Lance dreaming about him is a nice one.)

There’s a sharp intake of breath from beside him, confirming Lance is not asleep, then a beat of hesitation.

“Do you ever wonder what happens when we die?”

Keith blinks. He opens his mouth to answer, but stops himself. He looks up at the unfamiliar stars, tracing random constellations. There’s a sword, where Orion usually is during Earth summers. And a lick of flame, replacing the Big Dipper.

The brightest star in the sky shines red.

“No,” Keith says softly. “It’s — dangerous. Letting myself think about that. We’re too close, you know? I don’t want my last thought to be panicking about what’s to come. I want it to be — not that. I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

Keith waits for Lance to offer an explanation, a reason for his curiosity, or even a subject change. When nothing comes Keith shifts, propping himself up on his elbow and glancing over at the red paladin.

“Why do you ask? Just curious?”

It’s a long time, again, until Lance answers, but this time Keith knows he’s not asleep. He’s tense, lying ramrod straight, head centred on his pillow and arms hooked over his blanket. His brown eyes — almost black in the dark night — stare straight up, but there’s something off about his expression, something fixed and plastic.

“I was surprised, is all. It was — nothing like I expected.”

It takes a moment for Keith to process what Lance said. He almost wishes he hadn’t, when it finally clicks. Never in his life has cold dread seeped through his bones so quickly.

“…What?” He can barely hear his own voice. He can’t at all, actually, the hoarse shock of it swallowed up by the crackling of the coals and cooing of nocturnal insects and wildlife.

Lance, though, must have heard him anyway, or been expecting his shock, because the plastic stiffness melts from his expression as he shoots straight up, scrambling to his feet and pacing back and forth barely paces away from the small flames. Bizarrely, Keith chokes down the urge to warn Lance about the uneven ground that he might trip on.

“I — I was never religious, you know?” One of his hands tugs at his hair, making the dark curls frizzy the more he messes with it. The other waves frantically back and forth, faster with every word. “None of us really were. But Mamá dragged us to church anyway. Every Sunday. Maybe to give us something to be bored about, I don’t know. She never really explained herself. I didn’t ask.” Lance stops abruptly, loud hands freezing, marching back to his bedroll and standing on it for a moment, looking lost. “I don’t — it’s not that I liked it. It was boring as hell. But I — I guess I believed some of it. I dunno.” Before Keith can blink he collapses on top of his blankets, like his strings have been cut. Both hands slide in his hair, now, dark strands clenched between his fingers, elbows resting on his knees. “It was just…dark, though,” he says softly. “Empty.”

Keith feels as if he’s encased in ice. His heart pounds, galloping against his chest, rushing blood through his ears so quickly he can hardly hear anything else. Part of him hopes Lance is playing some kind of cruel joke, but he knows he isn’t.

“When did you —” he doesn’t even know how to phrase it. Hell, he doesn’t know what he’s phrasing, really. “What —” He trails off again, lost. He looks at Lance blankly. Something bitter floods his mouth.

He imagines, for a moment, making this trek home without Lance. It’s not something he’s allowed himself to think about before. Even with Shiro missing, he’d stubbornly refused to even entertain the idea that Shiro was gone for good. The only time he’d let himself think about it was — was Naxzela. And even then, he was the one sure would be going.

They come to him now, unbidden, thoughts. About life — without Lance. Without his loud teasing and big smiles and quiet kindness, without his begrudging but unwavering support, his steady hands and clear voice as he says we’re all behind you, Keith, we’ve got you. I’ve got you.

A tear burns hot down his cheek, startling him back to the stillness of the night, the cool air and quiet noise. Another follows, and another, and then he’s swallowing the giant lump in his throat and holding back a sob.

“You nearly…when?” He can’t bring himself to say the word, to ask directly. To ask would make it real, concrete.

“The Omega Shield,” Lance whispers. He has yet to look up, but has stopped pulling so harshly on his hair. “A blast just —” he shudders. “Right through me an’ Red. You know when — when it’s cold out, and you walk a while without gloves? And your hands get so cold they burn?”

“Yeah,” Keith says softly. His lips taste of salt.

Lance glances at him. His eyes are big and brown and desperate, aching. Glassy, wet and ready to break. “It was like that. All over. Like every molecule was tearing itself apart, like I was unravelling. I was almost grateful when it stopped.”

“And when it stopped?” Keith chokes out.

“Nothing. Endless, nothingness. For a thousand eternities. I lived and grew and died for the rest of time, alone.” Lance heaves, like he’s about the sob or throw up or both.

The first tear finally drips down Lance’s face, tracing from the corner of his eye down his nose, pausing at the tip of it before dropping, finally, into his lap. It springs Keith into action, and before he can even think he surges forward, gathering him in his arms and pulling him into his lap, squeezing tightly and rocking them back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Lance doesn’t so much as twitch, crying great hiccuping sobs into Keith’s chest.

“I’m afraid to sleep,” he chokes out. “I haven’t in days. Every time I do I’m terrified I won’t wake up.”

“I’ve got you,” Keith assures, at a total loss. He lays his hand on the back of Lance’s head, holding him tightly. He can feel Lance’s heartbeat where their chests are pressed together, stuttering and sprinting.

“I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not gonna die.”

Lance only sobs again. Keith is aghast, terrified to hold him any tighter but unsure of what else to do. Lance has never been fragile, to him. He’s more stubborn than an ox, a streak of fire lighting up his spine, dark eyes shining with fury every time his forehead’s pressed to Keith’s, screeching ‘till he’s blue in the face that he’s right and Keith’s wrong and he’s gonna show it to him, just you wait and see. He’s seen Lance angry, seen him annoyed, seen him golden with the fire of competition and glowing with the brightness of his laughter. He’s seen Lance worn and insecure. Never, not once in the years Keith has known him and fought with him and led with him, has he seen Lance fragile.

But he is, right now. Now, quivering in Keith’s arms, sobs shaking his frame, Keith feels like he’s holding him together, like if he lets go Lance will shatter to shards on the floor.

So Keith holds him. He holds him until his arms ache, and past that. He holds him until his shirt is soaked and cold in the chilly air, until his knees burn from the tiny bumps of the ground. He holds him until Lance’s sobs peter out, until the orange sun of the system they’re stopping in peeks out from the horizon, stars blinking out of sight.

Hours later, Lance shifts, pulling away slightly. Keith holds tighter, refusing to let him pull away too far.

“Don’t,” Keith says, before Lance can apologize.

That cracks a smile on Lance’s face, to his own surprise. “No?” His voice is wrecked, throat no doubt raw.

“Save your apologies for when you actually do something stupid,” Keith affirms. He hesitates a second, then reaches out, brushing the frazzled curls from Lance’s forehead and wiping the tears from his cheeks. Lance winces slightly as Keith’s thumb brushes his cheekbone.

Keith pulls away. “Sorry. Rough hands.”

But Lance’s hand darts out and grabs Keith’s. “No, it’s — I don’t mind it.” He places it back on his face, shutting his eyes, breath shuddering. His sleeve falls down his arm.

Keith narrows his eyes. Criss-crossing Lance’s arms are dozens of jagged white scars, like lightning bolts across his skin.

“I wake up with more every day,” Lance explains, noticing Keith’s expression. “I was — I died, Keith.”

Keith flinches. Lance swallows, carrying on.

“I felt my heart stop. I don’t know how long, but it was…there was a severance. Something permanent. I felt it.” He runs his hands through his hair again, but much gentler this time. A fidget instead of a panicked tugging. The roots are white, like Shiro’s. “Allura did her best, I think. But I was gone so long. And she’d never done it before.”

“Is everything…working alright?” It’s an awkward way to say it. But Keith doesn’t know how else to say am I going to lose you? Later? Are you here to stay?

Lance shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to hear her tell me it’s not.”

“I don’t want to wake up one day and find out — find out, Lance.”

Lance swallows. “I know. I don’t — what do I —”

“We’ll talk to her,” Keith promises. “We’ll figure it out. I’ve got you, Lance.”

Lance’s chin trembles, but he slumps forward, exhausted. “Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He’s silent for a moment, face tucked in Keith’s neck. The muffled sounds of the team waking up starts to fill the air. “I’m tired, Keith.”

“I’ll watch for you. I’ll make sure you wake up.”

“Okay,” Lance whispers again. Keith feels his eyelashes flutter closed, feels his heartbeat slow, his breathing even. “I trust you.”

As Lance starts to grow heavier in his arms, Keith tightens his hold. He presses a kiss to the top of Lance’s head.

“I’ve got you.”

I won’t let you fade away.

———

part two

#part two will be here tomorrow and involve coran!! #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #omega shield #post s6 #red paladin lance #black paladin keith #langst #brown-eyed lance #hurt/comfort #my writing #fic #longpost

[utilitycaster]

Level Up Post: Mighty Nein: Echoes of the Solstice: The Speculation Version

DO NOT POST SPOILERS ON THIS IF YOU ARE AT THE LIVE SHOW IN PERSON. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

So here's the deal: I don't know what level they'll be (18-20), I am frankly assuming they level up in the first place (but like. why wouldn't they) and I'm going to have to make a bunch of assumptions, but here is a manageable-ish, I hope, summary, to be refined once we know more. Also: I'm assuming we've got Caduceus rather than Kingsley (I DO NOT KNOW THIS FOR SURE DO NOT RELY ON THIS BEING THE TRUTH) but I will make a Kingsley post if that is not the case (short answer - I'd recommend solely leveling up in blood hunter). As always with level-ups: if there is a significant omission or an error, please let me know. If I simply did not choose the same spell or feat you did, feel free to reply with "ooh nice, what about [spell]" but do not send me asks or get weird and sanctimonious about having different thoughts on subjective assessments. Anyway, here's the pre-show version; I'll make a new post Friday if appropriate.

Fjord: Let's get Mr. Complicated Tusktooth Stone Lavorre out of the way. He is currently Warlock 12/Paladin 5. Warlocks get a mystic arcanum at level 13 (7th level spell once per day) as well as another known spell for regular casting, a subclass feature at 14 (Master of Hexes for Fjord, which allows him to move his hexblade's curse from creature to creature if the first dies), and a mystic arcanum (8th level) and another invocation and another spell at 15. Paladins, meanwhile, get Aura of Protection (+CHA mod, so 5, to all saving throws to himself and all allies within 10 feet) at level 6, a subclass feature at 7 (Aura of Liberation - he and allies within 10 feet cannot be grappled or restrained, can use 5 feet of movement to get out of prior restraints [THIS WOULD HELP BEAU IF SHE SHOWS UP CHAINED BTW], and ignore penalties to underwater attacks) as well as another L2 spell slot, and an ASI at 8; his lay on hands pool also scales up by 5 HP per level. My personal feeling is: for the next level, take paladin level 6, which gives him and anyone within the aura +5 to all saves so long as he is not incapacitated; paladin auras are ridiculously good and every day I wish someone would play paladin straight through in CR, for me, much as I adore Fjord and Vax's dips into it. For his 19th level, I'd either take paladin 7 for the aura of liberation, or take warlock 13, which grants the mystic arcanum of which I'd take Etherealness, probably, or possibly Forcecage; the clerics can handle Plane Shift, and Finger of Death seems off-brand. He also gets another regular spell of which there are many; Contact Other Plane might not work under these conditions so I'm leaning towards Dream, which is just a great weird spell few people take, but also he could take a low level spell given he has paladin spell slots. And for 20th, take the one he didn't take for 19, for a final 13 Warlock/7 Paladin split.

Beau: Much more straightforward in comparison...but let's talk about the leveling up process. Level 18 grants Empty Body, in which she can spend 4 ki to be invisible for 1 minute and resistant to all damage other than force damage, or she can spend 8 ki to cast astral projection on herself alone, which is just hilarious and great and I would like to see it. She also increases her speed to 60 feet. Level 19 is an ASI/Feat; her stats are great so I say take Mobile because it's funny to make her normal speed 70 feet/round, or mage slayer for obvious narrative and "Beau, don't you want to pull a Cerrit on Ludinus" reasons. The capstone monk level kind of sucks (4 ki points back if she's tapped when rolling for initiative) but I don't have a good multiclass for her in mind so may as well ride it out. And of course she gets a ki point per level.

Caleb: Perhaps the only person for whom level 18 is actually fun (other than the multiclassed characters), at level 18 he gets to pick a 1st and 2nd level wizard spell in his spell book that he can cast at will. He can exchange these, but it requires 8 hours of study, so probably what he has going in to this show is what he has for the show. 19 is again a Feat/ASI, and honestly a con or dex boost never hurts a wizard. Level 20 gives him two 3rd level spells in his spellbook that he can cast once per rest (long or short) without using a spell slot. Might I suggest counterspell as one of them? And both he and the clerics gain extra high level spell slots at each level (5th, 6th, and 7th at levels 18, 19, and 20 respectively).

Veth: So she is actually trickier than Fjord, as the multiclassed character, in that I'm less sure how to split it out, but we'll go through the options: Level 17 in rogue grants her the ability to temporarily steal spells from another spellcaster who attacks her (Spell Thief) which is GREAT and she should definitely take it. Level 18 is Elusive; as long as she is not incapacitated, attack rolls cannot have advantage on her. And Level 19 is an ASI/Feat and an increase in sneak attack dice and also grants her a fourth level spell slot and new spell to go with it, which must be enchantment or illusion; Greater Invisibility seems like the obvious choice. I'd take the ASI to INT. On the other hand, if she pursues more wizard levels, Level 2 would give her a subclass and its features and another 1st level spell slot (and 2 more spells), Level 3 would give her 2nd level wizard spells and corresponding spell slots (and again, 2 more spells in her spellbook), and Level 4 is an ASI/Feat, a cantrip, and another 2nd level spell slot. I say take L17 in rogue first, then get a wizard subclass (transmutation does seem obvious for a number of reasons though abjuration, illusion, and divination have better L2 features and illusion makes narrative sense - divination would simply be hilarious), then take her final level in rogue for Elusive; but with both Veth and Fjord I think there's an obvious level to take (L17 rogue for Veth, L6 paladin for Fjord) and after that I respect Sam and Travis to pick what feels right.

Jester and Caduceus: At level 18, they can channel divinity 3 times per rest rather than 2. At level 19, they take ASIs, which honestly are up in the air for me - I'm excited to see what they pick, though @captainofthetidesbreath suggested Eldritch Adept for Jester which I would enjoy, and we haven't seen Caduceus's feat from the final episode yet which means I'm not sure about what he might take as a new one, though I'm personally always a fan of Chef. And at L20 divine intervention is guaranteed (though you can only use it once per week)...but to be honest if they are level 20, I am expecting this to be nerfed for solstice reasons because it is kind of game-breaking.

Yasha: So here's the thing. Barbarian 18-19 is kind of eh and 20 is good but not amazing. She could take it; she'd get indomitable might at 18 (treat any strength check as her strength score, 18, if she rolls lower than that), an ASI/Feat at 19, and her strength and con jump up by 4 each (and can exceed 20) - this would put her at 18 CON and 22 STR, assuming she doesn't increase either with the ASI (and to be fair I would take the ASI to strength). This is solid and entirely valid as a choice. HOWEVER, might I suggest the Grog move of taking her final three levels in fighter, which would give her a fighting style and second wind at L1, action surge at L2, and an archetype and its 3rd level features at L3. I like how Battle Master feels for Yasha but really it's that action surge that makes this great; Rune Knight or Champion are also decent options.

#mighty nein #critical role #echoes of the solstice

[lendeah]

bound by duty, haunted by dreams

chapter 1

Summary: You hated him —his selfishness, egocentrism, and lack of morals. He represented everything you stood against. But then, why was he the one plaguing your dreams night after night? Pairing: Astarion x OFC!Tav Word Count: 2.5k Tags: Enemies to Lovers, they really hate each other, Human! Tav , Paladin! Tav , Mind Manipulation, eventual smut.

a/n: I don't know if I will write more of this or I will leave it as a two shot! I probably will. LMK if you enjoy it :)

AO3 link

You detested him. You knew your oath was to love every person, despite their past, despite their beliefs, despite... everything, basically. But you couldn't. Stand. Him. His very presence irked you, sending prickles of discomfort crawling up your spine. That smug, self-righteous smirk. His constant complaints. His utter disgust for all living beings except himself. But the worst of all was his horrible and overt attempts at flirting. It almost made you gag.

You could tell that he felt the same way towards you, judging by the constant sour glances he shot your way at camp. He would sneer when you offered help to those in need and make sly remarks after showing kindness towards your companions. It seemed like everything you stood for was the very antithesis of his beliefs.

At first, you thought you just had to get to know him. You can't judge a book by its cover, after all. But the more time you spent around him, the less you liked him. And it all came crashing down when you had the worst argument about the tiefling situation. The coward wanted us to leave them in the middle of the night! Oh, and rob them of every valuable in order to have money for the trip!

As much as you detested each other, you couldn't deny the fact that you were both in the same boat. Literally. The cursed tadpole had tethered your fates together, forcing you to work together to find a cure. And then there was the oath to Ilmater, the deity of compassion and endurance, which bound you to show kindness and mercy towards all beings.

Your oath did not include being spiteful, but whenever he was near, all you could think about was kicking his-

"Soldier, if you keep looking at him I am afraid he is going to grow another head."

Karlach was giving you a funny look from across the fire. You huffed in annoyance, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you sipped on the stew. The two of you were the last ones having dinner, as the rest of the party had either retired for the night or were on watch duty. This was why Astarion was also lingering around. You tried to ignore his presence, focusing on the warmth of the fire and the comforting taste of the stew. But your eyes kept drifting towards him - the source of all your frustration.

"Maybe that would make him bearable to be around, or maybe they would just argue with each other so much I wouldn't have to listen to either."

"Or they would end up tearing each other apart like rabid animals, competing for attention," she laughed.

You couldn't help but let out a small smile at Karlach's joke, the tension between you and him momentarily forgotten.

"I don't know how much longer I can take it," you grumbled, poking at your stew with your spoon.

"You know wha' we need t'do to get rid o' each other? Find a cure for 'is damn tadpole," Karlach mumbled through a mouthful of food. What was it, her fourth bowl of stew?

She gulped, "Why do you hate him so much anyway?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling your shoulders slump. "I don't hate him. I just can't stand him," you admitted, your voice laced with annoyance. "He's always so smug and heighty, so selfish. And I loathe selfishness. And the way he looks at me like...like I'm some kind of nuisance."

Karlach raised an eyebrow, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth.

"Well, I can't argue with any of that; he does tend to have a stick up his ass. But, to play devil's advocate, he is quite funny and nice when you get to know him."

You scoffed at Karlach's words, shaking your head. "I highly doubt that," you muttered under your breath.

Karlach rolled her eyes, leaning forward to speak closer to you,

"Look, I bet he's just a big softie underneath all that... exterior. So try playing nice for once, maybe you'll see a different side of him. We need him on our team, even if he's not the easiest to get along with." Karlach reminded you.

You raised an eyebrow at Karlach's suggestion, not sure if you were ready to try being nice to him. But then again, Karlach did have a point. It wouldn't hurt to try, right?

You sighed, feeling a tinge of guilt at the thought that maybe you weren't giving him a chance. People usually liked you - maybe you just hadn't put in enough effort with him.

"Fine. I'll try," you grumbled, still not fully convinced.

Karlach grinned triumphantly, little flames dancing around her body. "That's the spirit, soldier!" she exclaimed, raising her bowl of stew in a mock salute.

You turned around and found he was still there, distractedly looking at his nails.

Ugh, this was going to be difficult.

He caught your eye momentarily, a slight raise of his eyebrow before nonchalantly turning and striding towards his tent.

It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, you bid Karlach a goodnight and began walking towards the elf.

"Hey, Astarion," you called out once you reached his tent.

In a swift motion, he spun around and gave you an assessing look. For a moment, his piercing eyes glinted red, causing a mix of fear and irritation to wash over you.

"Yes?" he asked, his tone polite but dismissive.

Ugh. You wanted to punch his face already.

But instead, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm.

"I just wanted to say... thank you," you said. Yeah, gratitude. Everyone likes gratitude.

His eyebrows rose in surprise at your words, but he quickly composed himself.

"Thank me? I must warn you now, if what you intend is to lecture me about my behaviour it will be all for nought." His words dripped with arrogance he made no attempt to hide it.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his pompous attitude.

"No, I just wanted to express my gratitude..." For what? What had he actually done besides constantly complaining and giving disapproving looks at your every decision? "...for staying awake at night to keep watch." Yes, that would suffice.

Astarion narrowed his red eyes and his lips quirked with genuine confusion.

"Why thank you very much, but I am not a child to be lauded for performing the most basic act of the task I have been assigned," Astarion replied, a hint of smugness in his voice. "Then again, I guess your whole 'selfless Paladin nature' compels you to praise me. You looked like it was about to tear you up to do so, I might say. It was quite amusing to witness."

"I'm just trying to be polite," you replied, keeping your tone flat. "Not that you know the meaning of it, anyway."

His grin widened as he stepped closer to you, his tone teasing, "I do so like it when you try so hard to maintain that decorum of yours. Though you would do well to keep practicing. Your good intentions do not excuse the self-righteous stick up your ass."

This motherf-

You gritted your teeth and resisted the urge to punch him in the face. He always seemed to enjoy provoking a reaction out of you.

"I'm not here to argue with you."

"No, you are here to bother me. Which is having the opposite effect of what I am sure you hoped."

"Oh, you are insufferable!" you clenched your fists, the anger evident in your voice.

As you walked away, you could feel his gaze burning into your back. You wanted to turn around and give him a piece of your mind, but you knew it was pointless. Instead, you headed towards your tent and forcefully zipped the flap closed behind you, letting out a frustrated groan.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. This was not the first time Astarion had gotten under your skin, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. You reminded yourself of your oath. Ilmater. Empathy, sympathy and forgiveness. Ugh. It was hard, especially when dealing with someone like him.

But it was your sacred duty to show compassion and mercy to all, even those who seemed undeserving of it. You took another deep breath , composing yourself. You had faced way worse back home. This was nothing. Just an arrogant aristocrat. If he refused your help, so be it. You would turn your attention to those who were truly in need.

You snuggled deep into your bedroll, the soft fabric enveloping you like a cocoon. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes. Tomorrow would be a better day, you were sure.

As sleep came to you, dreams began weaving their way into your consciousness. Suddenly, you weren't in your bedroll anymore, but in the middle of a beautiful, glittering forest. An ethereal light danced around the tall trees and a clear stream ran through it, its water shimmering with tiny specks of silver.

A rustle in the dense foliage caught your attention, causing you to turn and see Astarion. He appeared like a phantom, emerging from your own thoughts with his white hair cascading around his face like a halo.

Great, now he is also hunting my dreams.

The illusion of Astarion turned around, his expression a mix of confusion and bewilderment as his eyes locked onto your figure. It was as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Well, that makes two of us, you told yourself.

"If it isn't Calendula, the noble paladin, sauntering over," Astarion said, his smirk evident even in the dark.

You cringed at the use of your full name, a jab that he knew would get under your skin.

"Astarion," you greeted him flatly. "I see even my dreams aren't safe from your onslaught."

His eyebrows furrow in confusion "Dreams? What do you-" And then his face lit up. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes and a sly smile spread across his lips, showing his pointed canines. What in the sweet hells is going through his mind? Well, my mind.

Astarion stepped closer, his eyes scanning you up and down. "Well well, I see my charms finally beginning to work on you, my dear paladin." You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "In your dreams, Astarion." "Ah but this is your dream, darling. And I must say, it's quite a lovely one," he said, dragging a fingertip along one of the plants.

You let out an exasperated sigh.

"I can't believe this is what my brain settled for in a good night of sleep."

"Oh come now" He said taking another step closer, his head tilted slightly, "If you truly wanted a peaceful, pleasant dream you would have imagined the sun shining brightly and a beautiful castle or a field of flowers or... whatever it is you paladins enjoy. But your brain, in the dark depths of the night seeks me and only me."

You scoffed at his words. "How do you even know what I do or do not want anyway? You are a product of my brain."

His fingers finally made contact with your skin, his touch icy cold and sending shivers down your spine. It felt so real, you couldn't help but wonder if this was really just a dream.

"I am but a product of your imagination, darling. But exactly because of that, I can feel your desires, your fantasies, your deepest thoughts." he smirked, "And darling, I know that I am what you desire."

Was he? He was a creation of your own mind, therefore he was essentially a part of yourself. But then again, if he was a part of you, did that mean the words he spoke were a reflection of your own truth? It was all so confusing and overwhelming.

Despite your doubts, you couldn't help but steal glances at him - the mole on his cheek, the slope of his shoulders, the curve of his smile. He was undeniably attractive, almost too good to be true. It wasn't so far fetched to think your mind had recreated him. However, you wished it had made him mute.

"I don't desire you," you repeated firmly, trying to convince yourself more than him.

"Ah, and there is that noble pride again. Do you truly believe that your self-denying nature means you haven't thought of me? Of us?" He stepped closer until he was inches away."Tell me, have you ever had any impure thoughts? Thoughts that go against everything Ilmater stands for?"

Your heart raced at his words, eyes widening in shock. Pink lips against yours, teeth piercing soft skin, cold hands up your...

Stop.

You paused briefly before answering. "No, I follow the teachings of Ilmater which guide me towards virtue and moral uprightness. However, I am not bound by a vow of celibacy. I simply direct all of my focus towards my devotion."

Astarion's smirk grew wider at your statement, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, but it's ok," he whispered, "I know your thoughts. I have seen them, deep inside your mind. I know you want to know how it feels to be touched, to be loved and worshipped back."

The realism was uncanny, right from the soft fur lining of his cloak to the scent of him - leather and pine with a hint of musky sweetness. It was just like the real Astarion, perfectly irritating and irresistible all at once. His presence was intoxicating and you found yourself wanting to lean into his touch.

This is a dream. None of this is real. Astarion wasn't here. He wasn't stepping closer to you again; he wasn't bringing his face dangerously near yours; he wasn't placing his hand on your waist pulling you closer till there was no space left between your bodies.

You could feel his lips almost brushing along your neck. He ran a hand up to the back of your head, fingers weaving into your curls, his voice a low murmur. "Tell me, dearest, what happens when your body desires things your mind believes are wrong?"

You gulped, your hands fisted at your sides, "I-I don't know."

"Do you want to find out?" Astarion's lips grazed your skin again, sending sparks of desire through your body. "I've always found that when the body and the mind disagree... it's always best to follow the body."

Your breath was ragged, brain scrambling for a semblance of sense. You knew you were going to give in. It's just a dream, you told yourself.

No consequences, no judgments.

Just as you were on the brink of surrender, a sudden and sharp tug jolted you from your slumber. Your eyes flew open to reveal the familiar surroundings of your tent. You were back in back in your bedroll, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. A throbbing headache pulsed through your skull.

Today didn't feel better at all.

a/n: hope you liked it! Lmk if you want to be added to a taglist☺️🫶🏻

#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #astarion x you

[benevolentcalamity]

I'm Quite Ten-tickled. [Mindflayer x Fem!Reader]

Cause I know a few people that would shout at me 'YOU NEED TO DO A MINDFLAYER' if they knew I existed. (That being about 1/4 of the Baldur's Gate fandom.)

Warning: This fic contains smut. I dunno if this equates to dubcon or what, but proceed with caution cause I have no idea what I'm doing.

There will be inaccuracies because I've only scanned a wiki and seen BG3 clips. Hopefully you guys still love me!

CURTAINS!

Come.

As though responding to the order tugging at your brain, the writhing tendrils part like a sentient curtain, before unwinding from around your arms. When the writhing prison at last gives way you're sent onto all fours, limbs limp from lack of use if only just to wriggle away from your tormentors. A cruel joke, this place, so wondrous and fascinating in its almost otherworldly structure... Yet, the moment you were pulled up by that grotesque tendril you regretted your brief study of them.

Was it a mistake, then? To push your brother out of the way even though he was the paladin? Surely he'd have laid waste to this ship by now - you simply doomed yourself to the fate he would have destroyed.

... It wasn't. At least this way he can go back to the church and mount a rescue. Not for you- alone, anyway. Everyone here that's still alive.

T'was the firelight outside that woke you to the siege. Buildings were being destroyed to kill the weak or scare the potential test subjects out into their range. You and your brother were two such folk - or to be more accurate he was the one. They always did look for the strong ones with 'potential', according to the horror stories of those that survived.

Did they know they were being researched? Or were they simply combing the continent for prey? ... Is this worth wondering if you're not sure whether tomorrow is what will be destroyed?

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"

A scream, unholy and thick with suffering, pulls your hairs on end, your feet fusing to the floor for just a moment. Your heart leaps into your throat, hands growing so cold they could sustain ice-based sorcery. With a deep breath heat slowly creeps back into your fingertips, and a harsh swallow commands your legs to keep moving as though nothing's wrong.

Again, the order: "Come to me."

For the guided it isn't a long walk, any passing faces blurred or forgotten, the near and distant screams falling mute. In fact, as you get closer, only the order - and in turn the Mindflayer responsible - remaining. You hardly feel how your back straightens like a stiff beam as you prepare to be obedient.

To the rhythm of the squirming sound in your head, his elation pulses with the order in repeat. That he will rise above, and command the shared mind of his kindred...

How do you...?

A dizziness takes over, wavering your steps a moment, as the flesh doors open. The moment that his mind reaches you, you're again steady, as though his hands themselves guide you in this moment.

"There you are."

Tendrils flexing and curling, he stands, and for a moment they reach toward you. Before long they echo the movement of his hand, beckoning you with a roll of the fingers. Watching you cross the squishy floor he hums, voice digging into your mind fully as his innate power wraps around your mind.

A break from this is visible solely in how there's a momentary hesitation in your hand reaching for a tentacle. That disgust fades in a blink, however, as momentary as he'd allow. Only he can feel that, if anything at all, in the turmoil that is his kind's heart. They have one, beating in only the Queen of their collective consciousness. All else is simply them following nature's grand design.

Impatient, a tentacle reaches and wraps around your neck, cueing you to simply shed your clothes. Without hesitation you follow the order, some stray tentacles wandering about your body as they pull you yet closer. Further imprisoning your mind where it should be, the rest of them wrap about your head, loosing your hair from the ribbons as his hand guides your legs apart.

Curiosity is shared between you two, the tadpole shivering in fervor as his cold gaze pierces your own.

"If yours is the body I require..." You're turned around and guided onto his lap, legs split and held up in the air. "Then through you, I'll hold the key to my ascension. So, rejoice now, for I will become the Absolute, and your womb will bear Illithid that will see my will enacted."

Clouded, you swallow. "... I will be... of service," You breathe. "My Emperor..." A thrall, yet your form hasn't changed - it's simply too sad to see tentacles spring from your flesh. Well and, you're appetizing simply in more ways than satisfying one's hunger.

Guided by his desires, your head tilts back with the opening of your mouth. Pleased, he allows a tentacle to slip inside, which you suck on as another wraps around your hand and holds it up so it can be caressed. In the meanwhile his mind engulfs your body, the very will to pleasure you seeing your insides squirm and pool warmly. Without complaint or hesitance he watches, amused, as your skin flushes and your every muscle bends to his will.

"A-aah!"

Slipping through his pants with unceremonious mucus, his cock slips inside of you with the help of a tentacle or two. It's big enough, lumpy and undulating, slipping in and out as though with a mind of its own. His powerful hands keep your legs high up, another tentacle pushing into your mouth as it throbs, swirls, and churns inside of you. With each thrust it hammers in his dominion over you, the voices of the other Illithid fading out as his own mind worms its way from the collection.

Merciful he tugs the tendrils from your mouth, save for one at the tip of your tongue, and lets you breathe. As the engorging and pulsating cock pounds all the way to your cervix, your mind grows foggier until he's all you can even feel.

I... I can see it now...!

From your body, eggs the size of your fist, squishing and squirming with new life ready to form. They'll grow into an army, nay, a legion, that will serve the new Absolute. Never will you die, for only you are worthy of this blessing - and thus the only one that should be seated upon the blessed cock of the Emperor.

Sucking that tentacle back into your mouth, your moans are silenced once again, thumb rubbing the tentacle guiding your arm around his neck.

Undulating further, his cock squirms and engorges until it settles in for what feels like eternity. He lowers your legs to hang them over the arms of the throne, familiar tendrils wrapping around your ankles. Anticipation sees your body arch, his arms wrapping around your waist as the rest of his tentacles tighten around your head. Not in hunger or malice, but an overwhelming possessiveness that will never see you be rescued or taken from him by another.

Lowering to grab your hips, his own snap up into them, and you squeal, mouth gaping open as he mercilessly pounds into you. Pleasured cries and pleas for him to never stop reverberate through the ship, him not interested in silencing them. Encouraged by your pleasure he continues his powerful claiming of your womb, his own arousal and satisfaction stoked by your flaming hunger for more.

"Yes-! YES!" You cry. "Ohhh, my Emperor! Oh, my Emperor!" Your one hand caresses his slimy head, one of his hands coming up to hold yours. "Aaah! Aa-aaah! Aaaah! Gh- fuck! Ahhh!!!"

Your back arches, and light flashes in your eyes. After too short a time he shoots a load into you, neverending, until your stomach expands and then hangs. The hand holding your precious head falls to hold your belly. In what feels like no time it feels lumpy, already hard at work in proving he made a good decision keeping you alive after you'd robbed him of the paladin.

"There. Now, you will bear the trueborn, and with me rule this world and all beyond. May our bodies never age or fall to mortal malady, for we will be the architects of a world befitting only our ilk."

He reaches beneath your body, cock sliding back into its slit, and an egg slides into his palm.

"Until time itself withers."

#egg laying #monster story #mind flayer #i'm not tagging bg3 because this isn't bg3 #my writing #monster x reader #mind flayer x you #mind flayer x human #help #monster x human #monster x you #writers of tumblr #i will never be okay :D #dnd fanfiction #hey i can tag that #ok thanks imma go now

[me-elo1111]

Unfortunate Circumstances (Keith x GN reader)

A/N: judging by how well this post does I’ll try and write more, if you have requests send them in I’ll write for all characters 🤍 and ships (klance nation I see you dw please give me something to write with those two) my friend asked for an x reader so this is what we’re doing first. reader is gender neutral in this one because everyone should feel included ofc!

__________________

Needless to say… you were stuck. Not even just stuck you were trapped with someone you could never in a million years be compatible with.

Keith Kogane, paladin of the red lion.

And a deranged smartass who ALWAYS had to be right about something… no matter what situation, if you were with Keith, it was his word against yours. And being the leader of Voltron it was almost always his word. Funny thing about it though he’d never act so rude and stand off ish to anybody else in the group… it was just you…

On a normal day you could definitely conquer this man’s attitude but this was in fact not a normal day. You were supposed to be relaxing after weeks of fighting and working against the galra but the universe had different plans. Very different plans..

“It’s just a small mission, just gather some samples for Coran and then you’ll be out in a few moments.” You remember Allura reassured you, patting your shoulder.

You gave a very hesitant smile, and continued to stride forward to the red lions hanger. Better to get this done and over with.

How silly you were to have hope for once…

“It was one simple task! How did you mess up THAT bad!?” You yelled into Keith’s ear.

You were both sitting in the red lions cockpit, Keith in the main seat and you leaning against the inner console next to him.

“In my defense I didn’t SEE that ship there!” He groaned, head in his hands.

He felt embarrassed. Not about the fact that he messed up on a mission, but about the fact that he messed up on a mission in front of you. And looking at your tense figure with your arms crossed and a sour look on your face just made it so much worse.

You wouldn’t ever know in advance, but he held you in way high regards. So much so that he found himself not being able to even have a normal conversation with you. Not like communication was his strong suit anyways. But it was a lot more worse with someone like yourself. He never could key in on the moment he started having romantic feelings for you. Sure the thought would creep up into his brain but he would just shove it away to be unheard of again. Because why would someone like you like someone like him? It never made sense in his brain. So he made it his mission to drive you away so you wouldn’t notice how much of a mess he is… But in doing so it wounded you guys here. Red was down trying to charge itself, and here you were yelling at him while he wallowed in his own pity.

“Well Keith where do we go from here?” You asked the pilot, who looked at you with something similar to… shame? Embarrassment? Yeah, something like that…

“the team knows where we are, it’s only a matter of time before they come for us. But until then, I guess we just sit tight and wait..” he trailed off, trying his best to avoid unnecessary eye contact with you.

“Whatever. At least it was you messing up this time instead of me.” You shrugged.

“Now I won’t have to get yelled at more than I have to.”

He straightened in his seat. And looked over.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” You muttered.

“No what did you mean by that? Who yells at you?” You sat in disbelief before giving him a slight look.

He seemed to get the message pretty fast and quickly looked away from you.

“Look- I’m sorry.”

You looked at him… “go on.”

“I don’t mean to take it out on you I just uh.. I just worry about you… is all.” You could see his face turn slightly red as he shielded it from your vision while you stared at him.

KEITH worries about YOU.

Well this surely was not on your bingo card this year. In a way it makes you feel sort of light inside, since now you can push all those intrusive thoughts about him hating you away… but also- KEITH WORRIES ABOUT YOU- and you’re being a dick by yelling at him for getting you two into this mess. You sighed as you started to walk out of the cockpit to exit the lion. Seeing this Keith scrambled out of his chair, running after you with a slight bit of worry.

“Wait where are you going?” He asked as he caught up to you.

The hanger door opened and you both exited the lion, you paused for a moment as your nose inhaled a new scent. One that you were definitely not used to.

You looked at him as you both stepped out, the coolness in the wind hitting you like ice as it blows through your hair.

“We need to talk Keith…”

_______________________

A/N: I got mixed feelings about this. But I just wanted to Drabble before I got serious about writing this into a whole parted story💀 anyways let me know babes JEN JEN OUT 🫡

#voltron legendary defender #voltron #keith kogane #keith x reader #voltron fandom #i don’t know how to tag this #I don’t know how to write sappy shit #silly little guy #he may be a bit out of character sorry #can’t write emos who are half alien #can’t write emos in general #can’t write period #voltron x reader #somebody request something for Matt I beg

[normal-thoughts-official]

Wyll's ideal reclassing is as a bard and God herself couldn't change my mind.

Listen. I do like that Wyll is a ranger if he gets out of the pact but rangers are a lonely class by nature and fuck that. And while I also get the people who reclass him as paladin, I think the last thing he needs after getting out of Mizora's pact is to immediately be bound by a new and different set of rules to another otherwordly being he's sworn his soul to.

And while I understand why the devs didn't do this, since bards are sort of a support class and there are many possible endings for Wyll where he is on his own, I am bound by no such rules because i know that the only real canon ending is that he is with Karlach.

So, bard Wyll.

For starters, the man loves drama. Look no further than his introduction, but I would also like to present to the jury the conversation where he tries to find Gale a Cool Wizard Name. Pretty much the only thing he ever has fun with anymore is his theatrics. He'd love every second of being a bard and using said theatrics to defeat his foes. Especially because Wyll is a sweetheart but when he's angry he is angry, and as a bard he gets to let his mean streak out with spells like vicious mockery and such. "Oh he already has vicious mockery as a warlock if you have the pact of the tome" thank you for further supporting my argument. He was made for this

But there is more! Wyll is a folk hero and his whole thing is that he wants to help the weak and in need, and if that isn't supporter class material, then I seriously don't know what is. Yes, defeating monsters is important; but healing people, restoring balance by weakening those who abuse their strength, entertaining and making them happy are all just as important ways of supporting the weak, if not more important.

And those ways allow him to be closer to people, which he is so desperately starved of.

As a warlock he sort of had to keep his distance because Mizora would make sure he never got close to anyone, either intentionally or just by the fact that the nature of his pact put people off (even more so after the horns). Unbound by Mizora, he has no such problems and can find a community, even if temporary, with the people he saves. "Oh but you just said you want him to be with Karlach and then he's in Hell". Yes, and there are people there. Show me a single place with more people who are weak and unfortunate in need of rescuing and respite. I'm not the first person to say this, but they actually have the chance to turn the House of Hope into an actual house of hope where people can rest and escape the horrors of the Hells. And those people would need respite and happiness, and Wyll "Drama Boy" Ravengard would be delighted to provide and find himself among them.

Also, if no one else, he has Karlach, and there is nothing he wants more than to see her happy and alright. I don't need to justify this one, it's text. So, again, supporter class makes a lot of sense in that context. Warlock/ranger is good for when he's on his own, but he's sworn to help and protect Karlach now, and while fighting side by side obviously qualifies, being able to heal her - make sure she's alright - support her in battle more than just fighting with her, gives them a deeper bond and puts him more at ease, I believe. Plus, they both deserve and desperately need some playfulness in their lives, so, at the very least, he can make her laugh with his insane Vicious Mockery casts. He kind of overcasts that one because 1- he has fun with it, and 2- it makes Karlach smile, but they're both op as fuck so it doesn't matter anyway. It's the closest they can get to lightness and fun while they don't find a definitive cure for Karlach's heart.

And once they do find it and get the fuck out of there, listen. They both deserve some downtime, okay. We're talking about two people who have been thrown into fighting nonstop since they were barely on the cusp of adulthood, and who have more trauma to unpack than years of life. So fuck going straight back to adventures and oaths and nonstop seriousness. Sure, Wyll would want to, but he also wanted to go to fucking Hell for no reason. Even with his father back, even free of Mizora, that's the only thing he can think to do with himself if you let him choose. And he deserves better than that. He deserves to rest and unpack what's happened and find value in himself beyond the Blade of Frontiers, to enjoy the youth that was stolen from him; and the man craves to settle down more than anything, even if he won't admit it even to himself other than the marriage aspect of things. But need I remind everyone that when Wyll had been given a death sentence - the tadpole - what he did was stop at a grove and teach kids how to fight? He thought he would do one last mission and then die, and what he did was that for once he allowed himself to stay and get to know people and be part of a community for a while. Sure, they needed him, but so many people did. And he was supposed to be hunting Karlach, yet he put that aside in order to have a place to belong, just for a little while, before he became a monster and lost his soul (which is fine, really. One way or the other, he knew that would be his fate. It's just coming sooner than expected, that's all) (this is me laying down Wyll's logic. None of this is fine and I'm screaming and crying).

As for Karlach, she never even wanted to be thrown into any of this anyway. Once they're out of Avernus, they will both need to rest and breathe, and that is final. And as a bard, Wyll can settle down. He can find a home and a community, have a place to come back to, have vacations when he needs to, have fun when he wants to. He will never fully give up being a hero - it's who he is, it's who he's always been even before he was the Blade. Someone who cares, someone who wants to be there for others - but he can and should find balance between that and being himself. And what better class to do that than the artsy, dramatic, drawing-strength-from-your-own-self-expression class?

Plus, as a bard, he gets to sing absolutely off the shits songs about the Blade of Frontiers/Avernus while being the Blade of Frontiers/Avernus. The comedy potential is unlimited. You want to see that. You agree. Don't lie to me.

Also, bards' spellcasting modifier is also charisma, so that's just convenient. I know that when you get reclassed in bg3 you can simply change your stats but uhhhhh. Fuck that? And yes, yes, he already has high wisdom because if anyone has a will of iron it's him, but I also feel like Wyll's off the shits charisma is a part of who he is. He is charming, both in the romantic and non-romantic sense. He enjoys being around people, he loves culture more than anything (I am once again thinking about his idle dialogue with Gale at the tollhouse when Gale says that they must have been very rich with all the trade from the Chiontar and Wyll replies, "And they wouldn't have brought just trade goods, but song, dance, and custom. Riches of the mind and the spirit". If that doesn't summarize Wyll's values and love of life I don't know what the fuck does), he likes being social and charming others. And people are drawn to him, people trust him, because he's a goddamn folk hero through and through, and not just because he's the Blade of Frontiers. So keeping his stats and using his charisma to draw his magical strength just makes sense for him

There's no other class that Wyll would enjoy as much, that would allow him to keep his favorite parts of being the Blade while also allowing room to be himself, or that would fit his current stats as well. Wyll was made to be a bard and I'll go to war over this

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #wyll ravengard #wyllach #meta #overflowing trashcan

[bloodyshadow1]

I'm nervous for the next rounds of combat and the episode preview didn't help. They've had one (not even) round of combat, 5 different opponent types. And I'm worried they're going to run out of resources, especially the 3 multiclassers.

Fabian has already used his actions surge, 2 level 3 spells, and 2 of his 4 superiority die. Fabian doesn't really use his spells, basically being a bard who is a paladin, so he's doing a lot of damage with his attacks, but it's the first round. Edit: I completely forgot that Fabian had to roll a dx of spell slots to lose on top of everything so who knows how many spell slots he has

Fig's used one 5th level spell, and a 4th for her steed and a 3rd for spirit guardians and a miscellaneous level for Armor of Ayda. though she's 3 levels higher with her primary casting and all of her classes give her spells even if there aren't nearly as many, so she has more spells to burn than fabian or gorgug. It can get draining if she starts to use spells for smites too though. I would guess Armor of Ayda was cast with a 4th or 5th since it would be the most useful, but I don't remember if Emily confirmed the level she used so as far as I know it could be 1st.

As an artificer, Gorgug doesn't have a lot of spells, he should have 4 1st levels and 3 2nd as a level 7 artificier, we know he has at least 2 non concentration spells on him and I don't know if anything else. He currently has warding bond and jump so he's used one of each spell level. He's still a barbarian with 13 levels of hp behind him though so he's still a great tank and we don't know what else his new subclass can do so there's a lot to unpack with him.

As for the other 3, Kristen and Adaine are full casters so they have a lot of spells to burn and it's smart of them to get off higher level concentration spells before combat so they can cast stuff each round and they both have access to very powerful level 7 spells that I dont' recall them casting anything super high yet. Still, as pure casters they don't have the utility and fancy stuff that their compatriots have.

Riz does worry me, he is an arcane trickster so he has spells, not a lot but he will always have sneak attack. That being said, haste is a beneficial spell, but personally I've never seen the draw since I think the stunned turn is never worth it. They're in a battle where they should last as long as possible, if he loses concentration he loses a round, if the battle takes longer than 10 turns he loses a round, it's a two edged sword that has a good chance of coming back to bite him with all these monsters.

No judgement to them, they have to play how they're going to play and honestly 5e dnd is not really made for long combats (especially how Brennan plays) so I don't think they're going to have that many rounds to survive anyway.

#fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #fantasy high ep 14 #fantasy high junior year #fhjy

[jaypea00101010]

A single design problem I have for each D&D 5e class

Made this a thread over on bluesky and figured might as well bring it over here. Not really big problems in most cases, but just, small things that I feel WotC should tweak in all current 5e classes.

Artificer: No clear weakness.

A single class that can make great a great support character, DPS character, tank, single target attacker, stealth character, etc

Obviously needs to be built spesifically for each of these, but every other class has at least one thing they can't do.

Barbarian: No force resistance

Slightly cheating because it's not inherently a problem with Barbarian, but recently more monsters have been using Force damage instead of B/P/S, and barbarians should absolutely gain resistance to it while raging at higher levels.

Bard: Full-casting

Bards are designed to be a jack of all trades, it's right there at 2nd level, but they seem to have missed the 'master of none' bit.

Full spellcasting up to 9th level, a pretty solid spell list, and spells they don't have they can take with Magical Secrets anyway, even 9th level ones.

Cleric: Turn Undead

A holdover from older editions, turn undead in my opinion just doesn't make for a good universal option on clerics.

I'd much prefer something like spirit guardians or spiritual weapon be reworked into their universal channel divinity.

Druid: Universal Wildshape

Probably controversial, but I have similar problems with wildshape that I do turn undead, it's good, but a weird universal option.

If I'm a druid getting my powers from stones, plants, or the stars, why can I also turn into a ferret? There should be a few options to pick from instead.

Fighter: Action Surge at Level 2

Action surge is such a good feature, usually it's just some extra attacks, but the fact you have the chioce is great....

That said, I think it coming online so early incentivises unintentionally incentivises multiclassing, casters dipping for 2 spells a turn mostly. They've somewhat fixed it by limiting what actions you can use it for in OneD&D, but I personally just feel it should be later level rather than limiting it.

Monk: Ki Dependancy

This doesnt' need explaining, everything for monks costs ki and it really doesn't need to, they should get resource free disengage and dash, or have ki recover faster.

I had an idea for a ki recharge of 1 min, but less points overall, so you have all points for every fight

Paladin: Oaths at 3rd level

You get your power as a paladin from a sacred oath you swear, so why do you only choose that oath at 3rd level?

That's like a warlock only deciding their patron at 3rd, or a cleric only deciding their god at 3rd (Yes 1D&D does this and I hate it).

Ranger: Spells Known

Why do rangers, the class that's meant to be about being the best prepared for the wilderness and natural areas not have prepared spells?

It just seems so obvious to me, and I've got no idea why it's not done like that already?!

Rogue: Is Pretty Good

If anything I'd say that I'm not a fan of skill floors like reliable talent, and expertise not letting you use it on other tools is a bit strange, maybe the large subclass level gap?

Yeah overall I'm a fan of rogues though, they're just solidly made.

Sorcerer: Spells Known

They tried to fix this in Tasha's with subclass spell lists, and I think that's good idea generally, but letting them swap them for (admittedly limited) options from 3 different spell lists is also weird

Just give them subclass spells they can't swap, or maybe can swap fron one list and you're good.

Warlock: EB is a Cantrip

Eldritch Blast is a good spell. Too good to be honest with multiclassing at least, it's one of the reasons PalLock is such a good combo.

EB should scale with Warlock level so be a feature not a cantrip, or cantrip scaling with warlock level like it was in that One D&D UA that they then reverted.

Wizard: Subclass Theming

Tying wizard subclasses to schools was a bad idea, and what we've gotten outside the PHB seems to be an attempt to go back on that.

It also means they don't have room to explore all of each school, I'd love a teleport or summon focused wizard but school of conjuration smashes them together weirdly

#dnd homebrew #homebrew #5e homebrew #d&d #dnd #dnd 5e #dnd5e #dungeons and dragons #artificer #barbarian #bard #cleric #druid #fighter #monk #paladin #ranger #rogue #sorcerer #warlock #wizard #magic #spells #subclass #dnd classes #dnd design #jay's design commentary

[rooolt]

okay fun little game I’m gonna play, who would win bad kids 1v1 their rat grinder counterpart, under the cut bc I ramble (also I fully understand within canon I’m aware that the rat grinders have far less experience and that may affect their strategies in battle, but I’m trying to think largely mechanically bc I’m a loser who likes rules)

Adaine vs Oisin: I do think this one would be close bc ultimately wizard v wizard is rough and I think comes down to initiative order bc that’s gonna determine a lot of counterspells. For example, if oisin goes first, adaine has to decide whether to waste a counterspell on something he’d predictably summon as a conjuration wizard, which he himself then would probably counterspell, which does use his reaction meaning he can’t counterspell later in the turn, however if Oisin is 10th level or higher he can’t lose concentration on conjugation spells which means the only way to get rid of stuff that was conjugation would be dispel magic, but then that becomes a matter of whether or not adaine “wastes” her turn on that. Neither of them have healing spells, and adaine has portent and also summons, but one could assume Oisin has more stocked and is more built upon that so I think in a 1v1 he may be at a slight advantage. This one I think would be very close

Fabian vs Ivy: This is another one that I think can depend on circumstances bc ivy is a ranged fighter and so if she surprises him from far away, he’s not as good in ranged combat, however, in melee, Fabian is so stacked with battle master + swords bard + fandrangor, but as a ranger (? I think, the wiki says she is but I don’t remember) ivy could have healing spells on top of second wind as well, and while Fabian can know healing spells, idk if we’ve ever seen him cast them

Fig vs Ruben: she stomps his ass easy. Paladin and warlock levels are so good. If fig hits once + spirit guardians she can do seriousssss damage. Bards are largely support anyways and so I think pure bard against a multiclass is at a disadvantage. Also I don’t know what Ruben’s subclass is, but fig has cutting words so

Gorgug vs Mary Ann: I think Gorgug wins. Because if Mary Ann is strictly barbarian, no matter how good of a barbarian she is, gorgug has spells and artificer stuff to buff and heal himself as well. He also has clobeca which in a 1v1 is definitely beneficial. We don’t know much about mary Ann other than a very good strength score but I think brute forcing it vs more strategy gorgug could bring I think gorgug wins

Kristen vs Lucy: they’re kissing on the mouth

Kristen vs Buddy: this one is rough purely bc they’re both obviously support classes, and specifically subclass wise not particularly offense oriented. However, if Kristen goes first in initiative and gets off a successful banishment the fight could be over very quickly. Buddy is presumably a life cleric and based on the rat grinders and his vibe in general I think he’s probably even more healing and support based than Kristen and thus would be at a disadvantage during a 1v1

Riz vs Kipperlily: FIGHT I WANT TO SEE SO BAD GIVE ME A ROGUES 1V1 GIVE IT TO ME BRENNAN PLEASE!!!!!!!! Anyways, we have confirmed subclasses for them both and I think based off of them riz wins???. Like, kipperlily is a mastermind and mastermind’s abilities are largely social and to do with helping their allies and commanding them like that. Riz on the other hand is an arcane trickster and thus has spells. Now, it seems that kipperlily can turn invisible, whether this be oisin’s doing or not, if it is a thing kipperlily can do herself, we know riz has see invisibility and there’s still one eye of the vulture king left, so ultimately I think he could get around it. Both of them seem to have ranged weapons (kipperlily’s crossbow from the last stand) and so I think they would both probably attempt to stay hidden in ranged fighting in order to get sneak attack. It is very possible that kipperlily has various bullshit fuckyou items she could use, but with our current understanding I think riz is at an advantage due to his ability to use his subclass features

#I want riz v kipperlily more than anything show it to me Rachel please #This is the autism talking I love dnd mechanics I love them so much #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year