#also playing the drow I posted a little while back

[justporo]

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 8)

ATTENTION: There is some SMUT in this chapter, because Tav gets a little touchy and Astarion just pours oil into the flames - only lightly smutty though, because I like to be a pain in your ass, hihi.

There will be more smut in future parts that I will still have to write but let it slowly burn for now - I know you want it.

Also this is the last part leading up to my main idea for this story - the plot point I actually thought about when I started writing this and thought it'd be like a few thousand words adventure.

Btw, did part 7 yesterday go through okay? I felt like it didn't really show up for some time when I posted, eh. Anyways, if you missed it, it's on my blog of course.

A bit more is already up on AO3!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

You kept on drinking and talking. Teasing each other, pouring more shots. It really did feel like one of the memorable evenings you thought about when you first told Astarion about this place. The main act had started to play downstairs: a band of elves – a rarity in itself, but they were practically celebrities as Lira explained: a male drow bard with long sleek black hair playing the lute and singing with a dark and somber voice that had men and women in the audience swooning, a female wood elf bard with a violin with green skin and equally sleek but powdery-pink hair and the voice of an angel and three more equally beautiful elven musicians. All were precariously clothed, leaving little to none to imagination. Since they had started playing the mood in the tavern had dangerously shifted from drinking and laughing to people of all genders and races and combinations dancing and kissing and stealing touches they thought nobody would see.

With half the bottle gone you could certainly start to feel the alcohol doing its work: you felt pleasantly buzzed, also giggling more and batting your eyelashes more at Astarion - which might’ve been caused by the amount of drinks you’ve had or the seductive, pleasant music… or maybe it was just your fatal attraction to him and his very much encouraging and looks and touches.

While Daegin had been complaining about the last time he had visited his family for the better part of an hour, you started to get a little handsy with Astarion. Which prompted him to grab hold of your roaming hands. “Do you mind, darling?”, he whispered to you with a smile and pulling both of your hands to put them over his heart. You blushed shamefully, immediately worrying if you’d made him uncomfortable. You quietly voiced your concern to him and apologized for your indecent behaviour while Daegin complained loudly about his second cousin's awful wife.

The vampire laughed softly and lifted your hands to his lips to plant a gentle kiss onto them. “No worries, darling, if you’d ever really do something to make me uncomfortable, I promise, I wouldn’t hesitate to call you out on it.” He pressed another kiss onto your fingers. “I love when you show how much I am yours and that you can’t keep your hands off me, my heart, but maybe just for tonight, keep your hands out of my pants while we have an audience, alright?” You nodded but still felt a little bit ashamed of yourself, so you buried your face in his shirt. You mumbled something about respecting boundaries into his chest to which he pressed a kiss on the top of your head and held you for a moment. Daegin was still on about his relatives while Lira boredly dragged her shot glass around in circles by its rim and stared into nothingness.

After a few moments Astarion leaned down to whisper into your ear. “There will be no boundaries tonight though, when I’ll have you all to myself and remind you why it is that you can’t keep your paws to yourself”, he simply stated and then went back to holding you sweetly – as if he hadn’t just given you the most enticing promise you thought someone ever gave you. Very naughty thoughts started to race through your mind, prompting you to let go of Astarion and get at least a few inches between you – a much needed safety precaution. You poured yourself another shot and downed it immediately while you could feel the same pulsing sensation between your legs you’d last felt when he had you pinned against a wall only a few hours ago. The rough fabric of your linen blouse started to rub on the hardening tips of your breasts, your throat was bone-dry although you only had just drunk something. Astarion leaned on his elbows to grab the bottle of liquor and also pour himself another one while watching your face and giving you a dirty smirk. He did look like the personified sin right in this moment. Astarion’s eyes wandered to where your hardened nipples here now clearly visible through your shirt while he drank slowly. He licked his lips afterwards without stopping to stare but you saw how he rearranged his pants with his hands – only the slightest bit awkward. And when your eyes flicked down, you noticed that not only your arousal was pretty obvious right now. “I admit you make keeping boundaries pretty hard, my love”, he whispered under his breath. You stepped closer to him once more but not touching him. “Seems that’s not the only thing I make hard”, you whispered back while returning the dirty smirk he gave you moments ago and staring into his eyes confidently. His pupils diluted slightly at your words, but he held your stare without moving, positively becoming a statue.

Then you suddenly turned away from him and to the other two at the table, crossing your arms over your chest, breaking the spell. “So, what else is new?”, you asked suddenly and with a not-so-subtle note of hysteria in your voice. You had been way too close to just completely losing yourself right then and there; all because of some dirty whispers and stolen glances.

The half-elf and the dwarf, both well drunk - much more than you - had obviously been completely oblivious to the electric tension between you and the vampire – thank the Gods. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that Astarion had rolled up his sleeves and was leaning on his elbows again next to you.

“Well”, Lira drawled, now much less focused on niceties and political correctness, “have you heard that Cazador Szarr has kicked the bucket a few weeks ago? And his whole estate was looted. It’s been the talk of town for weeks.” That sobered you right up. This was the first time you heard that this had become public knowledge. It seemed Astarion and you had been well shielded in your domestic little bubble since you had parted ways with your adventurous little group and settled down in Baldur’s Gate.

You threw Astarion a concerned sideways glanced but to your surprise he seemed relaxed. Even more so, he was grinning broadly, mischief twinkling in his eyes. Daegin happily chimed in and gave you a rundown of different theories on his death: heart attack (“Nah, he was perfectly healthy, last thing I heard”, Astarion commented), poisoned by another noble family to gain his power (“Probable, but why loot his estate and why not keep his death a secret and pose as him, so much easier to take over his influence.”), tragic accident (“Unlikely, I heard he never even really left his castle.”). Astarion seemed more intrigued in adding to the gossip that you thought was clever. But hells, you would not stop him from talking shit about this fucking bastard.

“Do you want to know what I heard?”, Astarion said after Daegin had finished. He leaned towards them as if he was going to let them in on a secret. Lira, immediately intrigued, leaned over the table just as he did. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly in anticipation. Even Daegin seemed immediately interested. There he went doing it again, Astarion and his damned silver tongue. You were about to join his act in whatever lie you thought he would fabricate from thin air, when he began: “I heard, he was secretly a vampire and was murdered by one of his own spawn because he’d made a deal with a devil to perform a horrific ritual that would have made him even more powerful and killed thousands of people!”

Your chin basically dropped to the floor but you were way too shocked to do anything else. Lira and Daegin mirrored your emotions perfectly albeit for different reasons. Did… did he actually just tell them the fucking truth?

The silence between the four of you kept dragging on. Astarion simply drank another shot of liquor, shrugged his shoulders and casually said: “It’s just what I heard.” You could simply blink at his nonchalance. Then Daegin broke the silence with deafening laughter, roaring and throwing his head back, slapping his thighs with his hands multiple times. Lira joined in but her laugh turned into a silly cackling chuckle that made her shoulders quake like she was losing her mind. You couldn’t join in, you were too starstruck by Astarion’s boldness. But neither was Astarion. He just threw you a defeated look that seemed to say ‘see? No one’s ever going to believe it’.

After several minutes of choking on their laughter they seemed to calm down. Lira had to wipe away tears from her eyes several times, the dwarf had started coughing horribly halfway through. When he had regained a bit of composure, he jumped off his stool, walked around the table and offered Astarion his hand – which the vampire took with a confused look. “I gotta hand it to you, elf, no one ever made me laugh that hard. Not even my own brother”, he said and shook Astarion’s hand, congratulating him.

“Tav, you really need to bring him when we go out drinking from now on”, the short man said and laughed again. This time you and Astarion joined in.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of song and laughter #poro fics

[meanbossart]

Asks about VaM, art advice, and miscellaneous stuffs

HI! Real quick please refrain from referring to Sad Sack as S/S for the uh... Obviously reasons LOL We call it "sads" for short!

If what you're asking for are recommendations for a website to host that kind of thing, Neocities, Twitter, Itchio and as you mentioned AO3 are all perfectly good options! Patreon too (depending on how gnarly you're planning on getting) but I'd suggest keeping that as a secondary host option because I don't think it lends itself super well for getting your work circulating. I believe Bluesky allows that kind of thing too, but I'm not too sure since I don't use it.

Now, If you're asking about public reaction rather than guidelines, anywhere you go you might find people that don't jive with the work you do 🤷 just be upfront about the type of content you're making right off the bat to avoid having anyone stumble upon it by accident to the best of your abilities, otherwise, I wouldn't worry too much. I know we're constantly exposed to examples of overwhelming harassment and "dogpilling" happening to others but... Truth be told, most of us won't ever get to the size/internet level of fame where we experience that. I think the threat is a little bit... Overstated, nowadays. Not to mention that most of the time people are getting harassment for things that have nothing to do with their work, and rather relating to their behavior and attitudes. Play smart, be responsible, and be honest! Whatever comes next is in god's hands LOL

Thank you for the ask! Not sure I was of much help 😅 but frankly when you're just starting out it's best to focus on getting the work done first and just throwing it out there, wherever it may be. You can worry about technicalities like that later!

I GOT YOU MAN the full sketch is now up on my patreon!

YES AND YES WHETHER IT BE STORIES OR ART OF DU DROW AND YOUR CHARACTERS SLAMMING PINTS TOGETHER BE MY GUEST PLEASE

I love seeing everyone's take on my weirdo so much, anything is honestly welcomed!

AW DUDE thank you so much! Especially for suffering through the mammoth of a story that ANE turned into - writing has never been my strongest point so I'm always shocked to hear from people that enjoy it 🥲

About the booze question, honestly I'm not picky at all, I usually go by price and by that I mean whatever is cheapest LOL but I prefer a dry white as far as types go.

You only have to pay for it once! You get a code that unlocks the software and all of it's features and you're free to cancel your subscription after that. At some point the code might change or there might be an update that requires subscribing again - but that seems like a very rare occurrence so I wouldn't worry about it.

OH NO I HAVE DEFINITELY TRACED MY OWN REFERENCE BEFORE, but not entire poses! When something is challenging I'll make a point of drawing it out the usual way.

I can remember a couple of instances from Nick and mine's comic where I traced pictures I took of myself, just as a time saving measure. Again like I said in the post, there are several ways to employ tracing your own material that is perfectly acceptable. I have also traced bare-bones 3D backgrounds that I made for the same reasons.

I know you specifically asked about tracing when something's complicated, but I still wanted to be upfront to demystify the practice under different circumstances. The rule of thumb is to never use it when you know it would be inhibiting your skill development!

Happy to hear you wanted to pick up the skill! I definitely understand the urge too LOL since playing BG3 and becoming so invested in the stories and characters my art has improved a ton, simply from forcing me out of my usual style and making me want to capture different moods and scenarios - finding something you're passionate to draw is, frankly a great damn start.

I replied to a bunch of asks asking for pointers and advice a while back, one of the questions was very similar to yours and I still stand behind the advice I gave then. Hopefully you can find something helpful here! https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/740543514692173824/some-art-advice-asks-ive-been-meaning-to-reply

HMMM I don't usually think of myself as the best teacher/tutorial guy, but funnily enough I can think of a few things about this topic that I could elaborate on lol. If I do that in the near future, I'll put it up on my patreon (for free as with everything else.)

If there are any specific things about it that you (and anyone else who would be interested in it, for that matter) find challenging and would like for me to focus on, let me know!

---

That's all for now folks, and as usual thank you so much to everyone who's left a nice compliment, word of encouragement or funny tidbit in my inbox as well! I can't reply to you all individually, but I see and read all the messages I get c:

HAVE A LOVELY REST OF YOUR WEEK

#lore asks coming either later today or tomorrow! #I might reply to a few right now/space them out rather than do another compilation #we'll see how I feel about it! #ask compilation

[cryptids-and-muses]

Post canon homestuck crew play Dungeons and Dragons

Karkat and terezi

Co dms

Unstoppable when actually working together

Terezi will get sidetracked messing with karkat

Karkat trying to write a deep and well fleshed out campaign that’s thematically resonant vs terezi’s desire for chaos and traps and trying to “trick” her players FIGHT

Terezi believes in karma and will make the world bend to this

Karkat is trying to set up romance arcs and argues about how it adds to the theming

Dave draws them fanart of their characters. Terezi loves it while karkat argues about accuracy before admitting yes he also appreciates it

Calliope also does fanart and karkat praises her skill and accuracy unlike some people

John

Arcane trickster rogue

Forest gnome

Just a goofy little guy!

Mostly just playing to have fun, starts off with a fun but simple character who develops over time

Ends up SUPER invested and taking this so so seriously

Karkat worked a dramatic reveal into the, in his words, “bare ass bones two paragraphs that a fucking wiggler could have written backstory” and John did not see it coming and loved it

Goes head to head with terezi a lot on her various traps she designs for them. She is getting more and more absurd with it. Karkat had to talk to her about breaking the world building with things she’s introducing. He is the only rogue. Send help.

Rose

Drow warlock

Tries to justify picking drow as anything other than she just thought it was cool

Nearly went old ones for patron but settled on archfey for story reasons

Has a 10 page lore document detailing her tragic past and her toxic relationship with her patron

It became 15 pages after going back and forth with karkat for a bit and adding even more

Only her and one other person are taking the romance arcs seriously and they become karkat’s favorite players

Tries playing morally ambiguous but terezi can be annoying about that and claims it’s just “the consequences of her actions”

Her and karkat both get very very into the scenes between her and her patron, the drama! The acting! Dave is uncomfortable and karkat brushes it off, it’s not like him role playing as his sister’s abusive girlfriend is weird. It’s in fact very important to the plot Dave

Has written fanfic of the campaign

Jade

Dragonborn barbarian

Path of the beast

Don’t ask me I just know

Her GLEE when she says “I’m gonna rage :D”

ANIMAL COMPANION! She nearly went ranger just for that but knew she wouldn’t have as much fun. Found a way to get one anyway.

It was harder naming her animal companion than her character

Having fun and likes the problem solving side of things, but likes breaking things with her massive strength just as much

Terezi likes to throw stuff at her, both traps and encounters, and finds it funny if she can just wreck her way through

“See John that’s how you deal with a pressure plate trap”

Takes the rp side of things very seriously

Once argued with Karkat over if her favorite npc would do that and cursed him out

Has read roses fanfic of the campaign

Dave

Plays a teifling with grey skin and orange horns

“What are you talking about karkat this is just my dude, don’t you like him?”

Hellus Jeffus

He’s a valor bard, eventually multiclasses paladin

Starts out just trying to mess with people but like John starts getting into it, though he tries to down play it

Have hellus more of himself than he realized and it’s making him face things about himself

Eventually hellus self sacrifices to save the party in this deeply intense moment. There were tears, Dave was wrecked, they went on a whole quest to revive him. It was touching and karkat is smug

Dave might have worked through some things

Jane

Halfling cleric

Her and John are small buddies!!!

Started out life but wasn’t having a lot of fun with it so with terezi’s permission switched to war or tempest with later s few levels in fighter

Her John and Jade are the biggest front liners, John’s character ends up really close with both of them as it’s easier for the rogue to bond with the person giving them sneak attack

Jade and jane’s character have an in game arm wrestling match

Took a bit to get into the rp side of things but eventually got the hang of it

Roxy

Tabaxi, easily, it’s so obvious

After much deliberation settles on glamour bard (though wizard and rogue were tempting for the joke, she wanted to branch out)

So many horny bard jokes but very little actual follow through, karkat gets frustrated by this as she’s all this talk but isn’t pursuing any of the romance options he’s giving her

She has SECRETS! She is HIDING THINGS!! Her cheery persona is a FASADE!!!

Cue complaining to karkat about how hard it is to wait to tell the others about her secrets and him threatening violence if she tells anyone before the in game reveal

She tells jake

Lots of egging on Dave and helping him with his fucking around

The BOND between her and Dave!!! They are the duo to end all duos. Team rocket type shit. There is nothing stronger than the bond between the bards of the party. My theory is it has to do with trading bardic inspiration.

Dirk

Half elf Druid circle of spores

Wildfire seemed fun to him but wasn’t as good

Wasn’t originally planning on being a Druid but after going over all the classes he liked all the customization and decisions that go into Druid like prepared spells and such

Didn’t really think about his backstory much, just improved something. He keeps improving new additions and it’s getting more and more elaborate and complicated. He has multiple hidden and long lost siblings by this point. Still doesn’t write any of this down. If he messes a detail up he justified it with more improv.

Yes his character has spiked up red hair and sunglasses. Don’t question how the Druid got sunglasses karkat.

Really likes the tactics side of things, he’s even pitched a few things to terezi she updated and later worked in

Sometimes works on plans and strategies out of game or making a million back up characters that play off the others in interesting mechanical ways

Is considering becoming a dm some time

Jake

Needed some help making his character, he just didn’t know where to start

Eventually after much discussion settles on a teifling bladesong wizard

Wanting to get away from his usual adventurer style Roxy helped with the backstory and they came up with this evil scientist raised in a cult who’s good hearted but was never taught right and wrong

He gets very into playing him and his moral struggle but can lean a little too good for his backstory, karkat points this out and Jake swears to get better at it

Dave pitched a lot of names for them and it was eventually settled on “Bernard Gunn” even though he has a sword. Jake just likes how it sounds

“Why is he blue jake?” “…..uhhh” “why is he blue?”

Calliope

SHE LOVES THIS SO MUCH

Teifling Druid with a focus on healing

Circle of shepards

Not a troll color pallet like Dave though, honestly it might get a bit trickster

Beautiful backstory that she coordinated with one of the others to make joint. The most obvious choice is Roxy but I think it was actually jade, Jane or John.

She gets so into it you guys, like so into it

Gives at least one dramatic speech completely on the fly

The other character who takes karkat’s romance arcs seriously and his other favorite player

Has also argued with terezi about world building and consistency. This may put her above rose in karkat’s eyes

Was also allowed to read rose’s fanfiction and offered full on reviews

Also considering going into doing but for the opposite reasons to Dirk

Vriska

Fairy artillerist artificer with a dip in war magic wizard

Min maxxed to hell and back

(Technically there was a better race, but fairy has its own advantages and she couldn’t resist)

An elaborate backstory too with some secrets of her own, I’m thinking full on lost princess

Yes she is That Player, you know the one

Has nearly been kicked multiple times and now won’t leave on principle

Not the best at sticking with the party and not just doing whatever she wants, but suprisingly Dirk has been able to talk her into it with his talk of tactics and playing smart

Second most effective is John who just looks at her like “vriska you’re not making this very fun :(“

Kanaya

Fire genasi ranger

Really tried to get into it but this just isn’t her thing so eventually decided to leave the group

Karkat came up with a fun story reason for her to leave and eventually brought her character back as an Npc

Did help rose make a cosplay of her character, after which John, Calliope, and Roxy wanted to make ones too

Vriska eventually tried to “manipulate” into helping her make one for her character

#homestuck #homestuck headcanon #homestuck funny #dnd #dnd au #homestuck dnd #can’t believe I’m making this in 2023 #based on my dm introducing a blue teifling named Bernard Gunn who looks like John Egbert and it felt like a slap to the face #yes he is blue #dave strider #rose lalonde #john egbert #jade harley #karkat vantas #terezi pyrope #vriska serket #kanaya maryam #jane crocker #roxy lalonde #dirk strider #jake english #calliope #calliope homestuck

[kemendin]

Epilogue

Or, I finished my first playthrough of BG3 and had many emotions (still processing) and many thoughts (also still processing), so here are some Kem ramblings on chosen endings and what happens post-game in Dhamari canon. Under cut because major spoilers of course!

So, for anyone curious, here's how things turned out, and these are fairly unsurprising I'd imagine:

Astarion did not ascend. I tried it for kicks, and I hated his ascended self lol. And Dhamari wouldn't have gone for the 'replace one tyrant with another' idea.

Gale did not claim godhood, BUT nor did he actually give the crown to Mystra - it was left in the sea. As Dhamari said, "If Mystra wants it, she can damn well fish it out herself."

Wyll became the Blade of Avernus, and went romping back to the Hells with Karlach. Go be badasses, guys!!

Lae'zel became the new Comet, and went sailing off to be the saviour of her people.

Shadowheart turned her back on Shar and went off to explore Faerûn and her new faith in Selûne (and got custody of the owlbear).

As for Dhamari and Gale... I had to do a lot of pondering on their ending, both in terms of in-game choices and how things ACTUALLY play out in my brain. While I’m very entertained by the idea of ‘Professor Dekarios’ I don’t think Dhamari is cut out for city life. So the short answer is, I went with the ‘I’ll marry you but I won’t live in Waterdeep’ option and they go off adventuring again instead.

The long version is, of course, more complicated:

Initially Dhamari is all 'yes of course I'll marry you and go back to Waterdeep with you' because frankly he's got no idea what to do with himself post-Netherbrain destruction. But that goes kinda not too well overall, for several reasons:

a) He really has no idea what he's getting into with the whole wedding business, because drow don't DO that. So while Gale's making all these plans and sending out multitudes of invitations, Dhamari's list consists of Wyll, who can't come, and Jaheira, who probably could, and he's just very overwhelmed by all the grand ceremony notions.

b) He's jealous of now having to share Gale with Tara and Mrs Dekarios and probably half of Waterdeep, because Gale's of course rather well known, and even more so after saving Baldur's Gate. Gale knows everyone and Dhamari knows no one, and he feels like he's being perceived as this odd little drow blemish on the local wizard celebrity (whether or not this is actually true is up for debate).

c) After the relief of no longer having a brain death sentence and the pressure of saving the world wears off, and he's had a little chill time, he starts feeling incredibly restless again. He's never had a point in his life till now where he wasn't scared or in danger or both - he has no idea how to live a life that doesn't involve fighting to survive. Unfortunately, in absence of obvious threats, he ends up on some mental level fighting Gale instead - lashing out with confusions and uncertainties he doesn't know how to cope with.

So within a month or so things get very tense between them, because Dhamari is rather terrible at communicating his problems to other people, but eventually they're forced to hash all this out. The end results are: a much smaller wedding than originally planned, Gale declining the offer to take a teaching post at Blackstaff Academy, and soon after the wedding they pack up and go adventuring again for a while so they can spend some time together that's ACTUALLY just the two of them.

At some point - dunno yet if it's pre- or post-epilogue reunion get-together - Dhamari visits with Jaheira, and she invites him to join the Harpers. Dhamari's felt a sort of half-conscious connection with the Harpers for a WHILE now, since finding the executed patrol of them in Grymforge (that's a whole other ramble/fic in process lol) and so when Jaheira makes this offer he's like '...huh yeah I could do that'. It gives him a much needed sense of purpose in life, gets him out and about and not quite so latched onto Gale every hour of the day. So when he and Gale take breaks from adventures and chill in Waterdeep for a bit, Gale can be doing his wizardy stuff with his wizardy friends, and Dhamari does whatever Harper business needs doing around the city.

So things aren't always perfect between them, and frankly these two will always find something to argue about because they ARE such different people. But they love each other, and they learn from each other, and as far as they're concerned - it's a happy ending.

Random tidbit - I really like that in the route I chose, Gale retains the mark of the orb. I think that despite what it was - a death sentence - Dhamari's actually rather fond of it aesthetically, and even sees it as a reminder - to both of them - that Gale survived. That Gale chose Dhamari, chose life, and it was the right choice.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 tav #gale dekarios #gale x tav #bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3:dhamari #kem oc #kem rambles #otp: woven in the storm

[moron-rights]

So I finished BG3 (Good Tav Playthrough, Astarion Romance) Spoiler End Thoughts And Some Critique

SPOILERS,Great SPOILERS for parts of the romance and playthrough. Mind Ye, my thoughts are incredibly scattered...

This is mostly about *how* the game ended. And let me clarify before you get too far that I LOVED playing this game and the music and combat and companions were perfectly charming

*

*

*

but.... what.... the... ending?

I spent about 94 hours on this playthrough, regular origin, romancing Astarion, skimping largely through act one but completing almost every quest available in act 2 and 3, and save scrubbing where glitches (though minor) took hold. Ultimately, I robbed Raphael and freed Orpheus and destroyed the brain. I adored act one (put 336 hours into EA already) and act two felt like a very seamless and natural extension. Act three felt disjointed but it also seemed like the purpose of the act was to showcase companion quests (which are all vastly different), so I just went with it. Even though the Oathbreaker guy bugged and never showed up to my camp once I started act 3 (Boo).

I finished all the quests and pushed all companions toward a good trajectory. I had romanced Astarion starting in Act 1 and influenced him so much that he autonomously made good decisions (ie, warned his siblings what their fate would be, set the spawns free, wanted to destroy the tadpole and mentioned guiding the spawn to control themselves). Got the grave scene, it was wholesome. Finished the other companion quests, which -except for Wyll's (I saved his father and broke the pact and learned who the Guardian really was)- felt a little bland after the sheer emotional impact, acting, and animation of Astarion's deny ascension finale. Who knew watching a man brutally stab his abuser and then emptily sob while covered in blood could be something so personal?

After I cleaned all my quests up, I went ahead and started "act 3.5" so to speak. Once I went to confront the brain, there were no more major companion-specific cutscenes or unique dialogues or romance interactions, save for Lae'zel and Karlach. I freed Orpheus and convinced him to become a mindflayer. (I am aware of the alternative route where Karlach volunteers to become the mindflayer but I did not have her in my party for that). I was sure there would be at least one more cutscene or lengthy dialogue -- particularly for the romance-- at the very end, so I took out the Netherbrain, completed the game, hit the ending post-battle chat. I was... disappointed.

A few companions had one or two sentences to say on the docks. Astarion started to burn in the sun and he panicked and ran away, and then I got a one-line response from Lae'zel that boiled down to "I suppose that's the last of the sun Astarion will ever see." Karlach's engine failed and my Wyll autonomously offered to take her to the Hells with him and she autonomously accepted. And then I got a narrator epi. telling me about how the people reclaimed their city. Then my credits rolled.

I learned through save snooping that If you let Wyll take Karlach to hell with him, it locks you out of the ending romance dialogues.

So, I reloaded to persuade Wyll to let Karlach die so I could get my romanced Astarion dialogue. I told him I'd go with him to the Underdark to help him guide the spawns (seemed natural, I rolled Drow), and he was happy to have Tav by his side. Then hard cut to credits again. No mini cutscene of Tav going off with him, no end cards, no epilogue text. I was stunned, especially because the ending romance dialogue was just them standing and having a back-and-forth conversation, and it was so brief. No animated interactions between the two. Or... anyone. Just a conversation in a room with wooden walls.

I watched all the way through the credits, hoping I'd get closure for the other companions maybe, but there was none of that either. Gale's crown blew up and fell into the ocean (so it feels his personal quest was rendered completely irrelevant no matter which way you swayed him), and who knows what happened to Halsin or Shadowheart under un-romanced circumstances (or Jaheira and Minsc for that matter).

It felt so odd and out of place to have an abrupt ending with limited choice, animation and dialogue when the rest of the game so faithfully respects player choice and commits to animating even the sillier actions. One playthrough easily has the capacity for 90+ hours of content but still manages to push you into about 3 recongisably different endings for a standard Tav (arguably 4 or 5 if Urge). Post the final boss, it 100% feels like cutscenes and dialogues are missing or glitched... which may still be a possibility (only 4% of players have finished the game as of date) but is unlikely. Ending romance dialogues across all companions seem to indicate that it follows after a party, which we do not get to see. All dialogue options for ending romances, at least in Astarion's, mostly led to the same responses with a few variants in wording, which might have been fine except for the lack of companion epilogue elements.

I don't know how to say this other than I'm bummed. I don't need a happy ending, just an ending that feels complete. I enjoyed playing the game so much, the companions were perfectly charming, the world was delightful and I had fun with combat and then the end just sorta... happened. I don't think I'd play through as a customized character again. Maybe once for the Urge, as what you choose to do with yourself seems a bit more concrete. And I have no desire to roll the origins. Replaying as any of the ones I frequently had in my party just seems odd to me. Especially for the ones I took down opposite paths. Selunite Shadowheart and Unascended Astarion are stuck in my head, but they feel like endings that would only come naturally if a Tav were around.

Some people keep saying it feels like it's set up for DLC, and it really-really does, but Swen has repeatedly stated that DLC for this game is incredibly unlikely, due to how DnD rules work when you get to level 20. But now that's all I want. It would've been all the more easy to accept how it is now if I had just some epilogue flavour. Or maybe something like ME3 extended cut DLC. Or just a little more conversation.

tl;dr, game was great until act 3. my choices with the final boss and all dialogue options after the encounter were disappointingly limited. no ending narration or cinematics or epilogue cards to give closure on your companions or romances. I loved everything until then, and wished there was more.

#dont worry i did actually like the game and it really was the most fun ive had in a long time #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #spoilers #astarion #bg3 wyll #karlach #shadowheart #lae'zel #baldur's gate 3 #thoughts i suppose

[vllergy]

emerges from the ether for 5 seconds before vanishing again--i don't post here often i go through phases, the moon has phases i have phases whatever but i've been playing a lot of b@lders g@ate and while i don't think i'll ever feel comfortable writing canon character content (maybe h@lsin??? g@le??? who knows) this one NPC interaction had me by the throat. feat: tw: canon courtesan/sex worker NPC, kink!reader, second person narration since the game is like that, hunky sneezy drow man, honestly a lot of build up for little payoff im sorry idk what happened. i also don't know the word count im useless (dialog is in-game dialogue up until the lil time skip to his room, then it's all me baybbyeee)

The drow is one of the most handsome you’ve ever seen. Not that you expected him to be ugly, of course. The fabled drow twins of Sharress’ Caress are known far and wide for their talents as well as their beauty. Its just, seeing them in person is quite different from sustaining on mere rumor alone. Sorn Orlith, as he introduces himself, is rather muscular for a drow. He stands nearly a good head taller than you with a broad, brazenly defined chest. His outfit is nothing more than a metal cage topped over his heavy shoulders and flared out down his sternum like witch’s fingers, pointing towards an abdomen taut with muscle.

His long skirt rides around his hips but you can still see the shadow of indents against bluish-gray skin there, as if they are inviting you to take a closer look. They likely are. Nothing about his appearance is not meticulously crafted to draw you in. From the slight sheen on his lips that are plush and naturally the color of ripe blueberries, to the way his wintry hair is falls effortlessly back from his face in perfect waves. He is a vision, and yet his eyes are not cold and imperious like you might expect. They’re warm. Inviting. Somehow kind, despite what kind of debauchery goes on in a place like this. 

You ask him how he ended up here in the first place. Apparently, the Underdark isn’t kind to male courtesans. Also, he was bored.

“The entirety of drow culture is obsessed with bondage beyond reason. While such activities have their charms, I yearned to reach greater depths.” He gives a dazzling smile. “And there is no society on this planet more laterally, imaginatively and confusingly depraved as that of Baldur’s Gate. Although of late, I do feel I’ve seen everything. Perhaps you’ll show me something new?”

Your throat goes dry. 

“I’m…glad you’re happy here,” you manage out. 

Sorn laughs, but not unkindly “I’d have to restrain myself far more than any play-bindings do if I worked in another field. This is a place where I can be myself boundlessly.” 

His arms widen, emphasizing the violet taut flesh of muscle in his shoulders and biceps. You do your best not to stare.

“There are so many who come to me speaking of a fixation that no one else has ever been able to share with them…” he leans close, “And never will again. 

He smells of bergamot and brandy. It’s intoxicating. “A once in a lifetime moment of passion. Every day. What could be better? Don’t you want to try it?”

You do. And he can tell. His grin widens, almost wolfish. 

“Trust me, you don’t want to miss my signature Menzoberranzan Love Trick.”

���

With the door to Sorn’s private room shut, you feel a sense of calm overwhelm you. The room is beautiful—long enough to be someone’s home, crystals and plants glowing in every corner, a bed surrounded by flowers, shadows in all the right places. It looks like it was plucked free from the most beautiful parts of the Underdark and brought here to Wyrms Crossing. It feels comforting. Safe. 

“Now, are you going to tell me about this little secret of yours? Or would you prefer to keep me in the dark?”

Sorn’s voice startles you and he slips a hand around your waist, nosing at your neck as he comes from behind you. He releases you at the reaction, but doesn’t make a show of it. He’s masterful at what he does. Reading his partner, gauging their comfort level, adjusting and maneuvering as necessary. Your blushing cheeks must give you away because he gives you an encouraging smile instead and reaches for your wrists.

“Come, let us sit first. I find it’s easier to talk like that.”

He leads you to the foot of the bed. The sheets are luxurious, obsidian satin, and the mattress sinks with your weight. He sits close, angling his body towards you, but not so close as to crowd you. Your knees touch. You can see his breath flexing the hardened muscles of his torso and chest as he lingers there, expectant but not impatient. His hands cover yours in your own lap.

“It’s perfectly all right to be nervous,” Sorn continues, “But I assure you, your secret is safe with me. And not only that, it is *treasured*. I meant what I said earlier. There is very little that surprises me these days. Should you present me with something unexpected, I will be noting more than delighted.” 

You avoid his eyes, despite how gentle they are. You’ve never said this in front of anyone. But he’s right. Odds are, there are multiple someones in Baldurs Gate who have stranger interests than you. Sorn has likely indulged them all and without complaint. As he said downstairs, he rather enjoys this aspect of his work. Still, your tongue is in knots as you work up the nerve to say it. Your eyes travel up from his chin to his perfectly shaped mouth, the cupids bow of his lips and then finally the long, aquiline shape of his nose. It’s a fine nose. Prominent on his face and somehow as elegant as the rest of him, it captivates your attention for a moment. 

When you realize you’ve been staring for a moment too long, the confession rushes out of you in a breath, “Sneezing.”

Your face feels like it might explode from the heat. Sorn blinks. You expect him to laugh, or tell you to leave the room, or some other horrible outcome but instead he merely tilts his head. His hands give yours an assuring squeeze.

“And what about it do you like, my love?”

You lean over with a groan. You truly cannot believe you’re having this conversation—but his warm chuckle sends something fluttering in your chest and you gather the courage to straighten back up again and look him in the eye.

“I’m…not quite sure, I just know I enjoy it,” you say carefully, “And when my partners do it.”

“Mmm,” he says, contemplating, “So you’d like it if I sneezed for you then?”

Your lips purse, holding the answer hostage in your throat. You nod helplessly instead. He laughs again and releases one of his hands to brush a knuckle along your cheek.

“Look how red you are, it’s positively darling. Was that all, little bird? That was what you were so afraid to tell me?”

You nod again, nearly in tears. It’s off your chest now and it feels incredible, but it’s also freeing in a way that makes you feel raw and exposed. He’s being so kind about it that you’re not quite sure how to react. Emotions clash together, warring for dominance inside the confines of your skull. 

Sorn seems to understand immediately. His hand skirts below your jaw and tips your chin up as he leans forward and captures your lips with his own. It’s a simple, nearly chaste kiss. So featherlight and innocent that it feels like the sun peeking through the clouds. “Shh, shhh,” he soothes as he pulls away, “I think it’s wonderful. I will say it’s the first time I’ve encountered it, but I think it’s quite endearing.” He pulls away a little further, leaving you breathless. His white smile gleams. “And what an exciting challenge besides!” 

He releases you fully and stands from the bed, his hands on his hips. He looks about the room, brow furrowed in concentration. You’re still a little dazed from the kiss, wondering how he manages to taste like brandy and sweetwine and smell as good as he does while also trying to get your brain to stop swimming. You blink a few times to get your bearings as Sorn stalks to one of his shelves.

“Now, the only trouble is—“ he starts as he rifles through a few things, “There isn’t much that makes me sneeze, I’m afraid.”

Your stomach wilts a bit. Perhaps it was too much to hope that this strapping drow would have a terrible allergy to lavender. Though, to be fair, he hardly looks like the type to be beset by anything so pedestrian. Sorn is so maddeningly put together. From his perfect hair, meticulous ensemble and finely crafted expressions, he is clearly a man that keeps up appearances. Decorum is important to him. Should he ever be laid low by an allergy, you imagine he would fight it with the all the dignity and stoicism he so proudly displayed. 

Still—you didn’t work up all this nerve just to get here and *not* have anticipated something like this happening. Shyly, you let your fingers linger over the vial in your pocket. 

“I…may have something that will help,” you say.

Sorn turns from the shelf with what looks like a raven feather in his hand, his eyes bright. He looks positively delighted at the news.

“Oh I love when my clients come prepared,” he says, “You are a dream.”

“We could try that first, though,” you say, gesturing to the feather. There’s definitely something to that idea and it’s already stirring a feeling in your belly that has you shifting on the bed and your heart rising. There’s no possible way Sorn can know this, but somehow you sense he does, because his eyes sharpen their focus on you and his grin goes syrupy. 

“Lovely,” he comments and returns to your side. As he sinks back into the mattress, he gestures a hand. “Is here all right? Or would you like to do it somewhere else?”

“Here is fine,” you choke out. The idea that this is happening, really happening, is making your brain turn to lightning. You can hardly wait. 

He holds out the feather to you, “I assume you’d like to do the honors?”

You nod. The feather has little weight to it, and it’s gorgeous up close. The black shimmers with hues of purples and blues in the low light, glimmering in the reflection of your eyes. You run your eyes along the length of it and then find yourself starting at Sorn again, heart in  your throat.

“Is it… all right if I touch you?” you ask. You lean forward, hand with the feather outstretched, but think you may need to position yourself a little closer and brace yourself on his shoulder to get a good angle.

“Darling,” he laughs. He suddenly seizes your wrist and brings you closer, lowering his voice near your ear. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

You gulp as he slides back, demure and innocent as if he hadn’t just made goosebumps appear along your arms and thighs with his words alone. A nervous smile paints your lips and you do finally take his shoulder in your hand. You’re kneeling almost into his lap at this point and to support you, he draws an arm around your back. It’s so intimate you’re almost dizzy with the closeness alone, and you haven’t even gotten to—

The feather brushes at the corner of his mouth and his mouth twitches in a smile. Even just that response alone makes your heart race. From there, you slowly move it up to the indent above his mouth, and then his septum. He wrinkles his nose, skin avoiding the stimulation on instinct before he wrests his control back. He smiles but says nothing, allowing you to continue. 

You draw the tip of the feather around one nostril. It quivers in response, but otherwise, Sorn’s eyes remained focused on you. You test a bit farther, drawing slow, soft circles. There isn’t anything for a few seconds, and then he starts to blink, irritated tears prickling in his eyes. He sniffs a few times and then has to cough, politely turning his head away on instinct as he does so. “Apologies,” he says and then grins, “What a strange sensation.”

“Are you all right?” you ask. 

“Very much so,” he nods, “Please, continue.”

You do, but to mixed results. You’re certainly irritating his nasal passages, but sadly not enough to make him sneeze. After a few minutes of attempting, all you’ve really done is making him cough and cry irritated tears. Disappointed, you’re about to give up when he takes your wrist again, holding the feather inside his nose.

“W-wait,” he says, “I had it for but a moment.”

Your heart stutters. Carefully, you twist the feather as you had been a moment earlier. His eyelashes, pale as new fallen snow, sweep his cheeks and a breath catches on the roof of his mouth. The hand that was around your wrist falls slack, fingers drifting down towards your elbow.

“Yes, I feel it,” he whispers. 

His grip around your back tightens and he draws in another breath. His eyebrows crumple and hoist upwards and his nose practically twitches. 

“Hh—hiiyh—“ 

As his expression snaps, you pull the feather away just in time. His head wrenches away as the sneeze whisks through him. 

“Hi-ISSHh!” 

It’s a spartan, nearly soft sound. Wet, given the amount of torture his nose has been put through for the last few unproductive minutes, but otherwise without frills or embellishments. It’s a very honest sneeze you think, but perhaps one he was not entirely prepared for. By his clenched teeth you think he might have held back at the last moment out of some sense of propriety. The way he lightly touches the backs of his knuckles to the underside of his nose in the aftermath and gives a delicate sniff further enforces your theory. 

Still, it was a sight. 

“Blessings,” you say, enraptured. 

Sorn recovers quickly and smiles at you. 

“Did you—snf—enjoy that? I am sorry it took so long.”

Your red cheeks are enough of a glowing recommendation, but you nod anyway. Feeling a little braver, and a little desperate for him now that you’ve seen him lose control the once, your hand slips down against his abdomen. The warm skin there flexes against your palm as he breathes in. He hums a soft noise of approval and clasps his hand over yours before leaning in to kiss you. There’s just the briefest moisture in the kiss, only you would ever notice it, and it sets your brain on fire. 

“Perhaps we should try your method instead,” he suggests when he pulls away for a breath, kissing a line across your jaw and to your throat next, “It might be more…productive.” 

You feel dizzy. His hand skirts along your thigh and meets the joint of your hip, squeezing with enough pressure to make you moan. 

“If you’re sure,” you say, “It can be…strong.” It’s only fair to warn him, after all. Everyone reacts differently, but you’ve never not seen it work on someone.

“All the better,” he hums against the hollow of your throat, nipping softly at the skin, “I simply won’t have you leaving here disappointed.”

You shift upwards to get access to your pocket. Sorn discards the sodden feather and watches with curious, eager eyes. When you reveal the tiny glass vial, he smirks. 

“I see,” is all he says before nodding his head toward the collection of pillows at the head of the bed, “Let’s get more comfortable first, shall we?”

Moments later, you’re lying side by side, both propped up by pillows and surrounded by the soft glowing plants and crystals that make a canopy of the bed. Sorn holds himself up on an elbow and examines the vial that looks comically small in his much larger fingers. You lay your cheek against one of the pillows and stare up at him, still feeling your heartbeat pound in your ears. You’d thought this would have gotten easier after seeing it happen once, but the idea of seeing it happen again is almost worst. Now that you know the sound, know how his lip curls a little, how his eyes flutter—all you want to do is see it more, see him unravel.

“So, just a pinch of this?” Sorn asks. He seems more curious than anything. Like he doesn’t quite totally believe that whatever is in there is actually going to be able to make him sneeze.

“Mhmhm,” you say. 

He grins and sets to work. A hefty pinch between his thumb and forefinger is gathered and then quickly—and in a rather sophisticated manner—snorted up one nostril. It doesn’t seem to cause him any harm like you worried it might, and he merely clears his throat once it’s over and brushes his hands off. 

“Oh, it’s lovely,” he comments, “Almost medicinal.” 

You can’t answer him because you can’t breathe. You’re waiting for something. Anything. A flicker of his expression, a quiver of his nose, something to indicate that the powder is set to work. But nothing happens. Sorn merely looks back at you questioningly. 

“When does it start to take effect?” he asks.

“Usually right away.”

He frowns, “Oh. Perhaps I should take more?”

You saw the amount he took. It was already sizable. Any more and you’d be concerned for him. You quickly shake your head, “No, I wouldn’t. Maybe it’s just…slow to start.”

Sorn huffs, his disappointment mirroring your own. He sets the vial aside and turns back to you, pulling you flush against his body. That’s still nice, sneezing or no. Every hard angle of him presses against you and the heat of his skin makes you shudder. He kisses you deeply and you can still smell the slightly earthy scent of the powder on him as you return it. 

“I’m terribly sorry,” he murmurs close to your mouth, “I’ve done nothing but disappoint you tonight.”

You blink up at him, “That’s not true!” 

He sighs and tucks a bit of your hair behind your ear. “It is, but I promise you, I will make it up to you. We still have plenty of time, and there are other things we can do, besides.”

Sorn dips an arm under you and pulls you flat against the bed, hovering over you. He grins down at you and starts to remove your top. 

“Is this alright?” he asks softly.

You nod, nearly choking on your want for him. Everywhere he uncovers bare skin, he lavishes in kisses until you’re bare from the waist up and the two of you are flesh against flesh. His skin sears yours with warmth. He trails fingers down your sternum and then down to your bellybutton, then lower. 

“You are a delightful little thing,” he says. His voice is velvet, and his warm breath paints down your ribs as he follows the path of his hand. 

You feel the gasp as much as you hear it. It’s a sudden, reckless thing—so quick that neither of you are prepared for it. Sorn’s expression flinches for just a moment and he barely has time to turn his head to the side before a sneeze completely overtakes him—misting your side in the process. “hh-EDSHHH’iuh!” 

You’re stunned. Sorn looks like he might be too, if not for the telltale signs of another impending sneeze close behind the first. He shifts and places a hand on your hip as he sits up a little. You watch as his upper lip curls over bright teeth and his nostrils flare once before he wrenches away from you successfully this time. “hhHH’RRSCCH!” This one is stronger than the last, more voice to it. It shakes him and you by extension on the mattress.

“Bless you,” you say, but he shakes his head. His hand squeezes your hip gently as if to say ‘not yet’. “Hih-ih!”

His fist goes to his mouth before you can stop it, and he squelches the last sneeze into submission. His eyes cinch shut and he bends at the waist, shoulders trembling as the colossal sound is contained to nothing more than a whisper. “hHh-nGXST!” 

He opens his eyes, though somewhat warily. As if he’s not sure the tickle is quite gone yet. He gives a cagey sniffle and blots his knuckle under his nostrils, “Goodness.” Then, he turns to you and finds your gaze positively enraptured. He smiles. 

“I suppose it does work ah-after all!” He rubs at the tip of his nose for a moment and then flutters his eyes, “I do hope you’re ready for more because it seh—seems…” 

Your hand goes to his chest. You feel the swell of his breath deepen, the warm feeling of his skin moving under your fingers. Sorn seems to get the idea because his palm reaches up to cover yours. His fingers wrap around your palm as his breath continues to snag. You catch his eyes just for a moment before they slide back. 

“hHH’RRSCh’euh!” He trembles under your touch with the force of it. He lifts his head just barely, eyebrows canted desperately, and then pitches downwards again, spraying your arm with abandon. “hh’AEEShhh’ah!” 

“Such a tickle,” he says breathily as he recovers. He gives a wet sniffle and smiles at you, but it’s hazy, the look in his eyes already distracted by the mounting itch. But he doesn’t seem bothered by it. If anything, he’s enjoying the newness of the sensation. The break from monotony. 

His nostrils flare and he releases his hand to rub his knuckle against his septum once more. 

You feel a little bold for asking, “Are you all right?”

He nods, smiling. He tries to hold your eyes but the tickle steals his concentration once more. 

“Quite!Just—hh…sn’tsCHh’eeze-hhHH! H’RRSHC’hu!” 

You reach your other hand up to stroke through his hair and turn him a little more towards you as he prepares for another. He resists at first out of instinct alone, but adjusts in the moment it takes for the sneeze to have its way with him. As his breath snaps, he ducks his head in the space between you and releases it into your lap. “hh”hRRRASsh’chu!” 

“Bless you,” you say, smoothing back his hair. You crawl into his lap and he welcomes you without hesitation, securing your thighs around his hips even as his head tilts back for two more with barely a breath in between. He ducks them between the two of you but there isn’t much space. His hands clench against your thighs with each outburst. “hh-eHH’SCCHE’uh! h’RRSH’ue!” 

Blearily, he looks up. He’s dazed. Sniffly. His cheeks are indigo and the area around his nostrils is too. You kiss him, because he just looks so stupidly *kissable* and he murmurs a laugh against your mouth. 

“It is quite comforting thatyou find me attractive in such a state,” he sniffs once you pull away. 

“Very attractive,” you remind him.

He smiles, and continues smiling even as his expression flickers again. “Ah, one-hh more perhaps,” he says.  He raises a hand in front of his face and a rather tired sounding sneeze ripples through him. “hH’EDShh!”

“Bless you.”

“I don’t thhhink I’ve ever snhheezed so much in my life-hh!” He leans his forehead onto your shoulder and does away with using his hand to cover, opting to simply hold onto your hips and let the sensation take him. “hh’UEHDSHH’iu!” You stroke his bare back and feel his ribs expand beneath your fingers before tightening twice in quick succession. “hh’NGXT! nG’ssT!” 

He clears his throat after and lifts his head back up, adjusting you on his lap. “Ah, I should have asked, do you prefer if I hold them in or let them out? Often I don’t know which it will be until it happens but… perhaps I could try…try to—”

His eyes roll and he turns his head, giving you a clear view of his twitching profile. “If I could juhhst get through a sehh’ESsch!—sentence!” 

“I don’t mind either way, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself if you hold them in,” you say to try and spare him. 

“Oh, darling, it takes much more than that to hurt me,” he wriggles his nose handsomely and turns back to you with a devilish grin. His eyebrows raise. “And lo! A full sentence! The effects must be wearing off.” He sniffs experimentally and for the first time, his eyes don’t get hazy in the aftermath. 

You feel disappointment sink your heart like a stone. It was bound to wear off eventually. But before you can even lament the course of events, he pats your thigh and shifts you off his lap. 

“Come, where’s the vial?” 

You blink. Surely he doesn’t want to do more of that?

He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking because he taps the bottom of your chin and winks.

“Oh, we’re far from finished, love. Ready for round two?”

#snzblr #snz kink #snz fic #i didn't proofread this and i probably wont until way too late and that's on me #i dont actually even like this but something in me had me at gunpoint until i posted it #anyway this stupid game is fun #idk if i'll write more for it #but this man demanded to be written #HOPE YOU ARE ALL WELL #SORRY IM NEVER HERE I LITERALLY GO FROM 0 to 100 IN TERMS OF MOOD #but this week the dogs be barkin

[solvicrafts]

Jarlaxle & Social Grace

BUCKLE UP, KIDDOS! I'm about to drop some new Jarlaxle meta :O

This post is going to be following a new format because I want to make it easier to read for people who maybe aren't very well-versed in the books, and I want to provide a good resource for roleplayers and DMs. Therefore I am going to break it up into different sections, and if you are reading this with the intent to get an understanding of Jarlaxle for the sake of portraying him faithfully in your campaign, you can skip ahead to whichever part you need (although of course I DO recommend reading the whole thing if you're /not/ very familiar with Jarlaxle and would like to get a really in-depth look at him & his motivations)

This post is going to be super-long, so if you do not want to read the entire thing, Section 4 is where I try to more or less summarize things and give some tips on how to play Jarlaxle as a DM. All sections have been bolded in orange font to make them easier to find at a glance.

EDIT: There are some spoilers for one particular thing that happens towards the end of Lolth's Warrior. These will be mentioned in the second half of Part 2, and all of Part 3. If you wish to avoid them, Parts 1, 4, and 5 do not have them.

Section 1: Jarlaxle and the concept of social grace

If there's one thing Jarlaxle is known for, it's his ability to charm the pants off of damn near everyone he encounters. And while this is very much true for him, people pretty commonly miss out on the purpose of his charming behavior and the intent behind it.

As I re-read the Sellswords trilogy (and some of the side content from that time period), there are a few things that really stand out to me:

Jarlaxle goes out of his way to de-escalate situations… like, a lot.

These books really do a good job of pointing out how delightfully charming Jarlaxle is -- more on that later.

While he does try to coast on Drizzt's reputation a few times, he really doesn't NEED to for a pretty major reason.

Jarlaxle is extraordinarily good at extending social grace to people in situations where it arguably isn't deserved, and while it doesn't always succeed for him, what I find interesting is that he doesn't tend to take it very personally.

For our first example, let's take a look at this bit from Servant of the Shard:

Entreri and Jarlaxle merely tipped their hats and moved to the bar, making no threatening movements and keeping their expressions perfectly friendly. "What're ye about?" the barkeep barked at them. "Who're ye, and what's yer business?" "Travelers," Entreri answered, "weary of the road and seeking a bit of respite." "Well, yell not be finding it here, ye won't!" the barkeep growled. "Get yer hats back on yer ugly heads and get yer arses out me door!" Entreri looked to Jarlaxle, who seemed perfectly unperturbed. "I do believe we will stay a bit," the drow stated. "I do understand your hesitance, good sir . . . good Eman Briar," he added, remembering the sign. "Eman?" the barkeep echoed in obvious confusion.

This bit goes on for a while, with the barkeep becoming increasingly irate, Jarlaxle hilariously over-performing in his Drizzt Do'Urden cosplay, and Entreri just plain having enough of this shit.

What's also interesting is this exchange:

"It will always be like this," Entreri said to his companion a short while later. "It had not been so for Drizzt Do'Urden of late, so my spies indicated," the drow answered. "His reputation, in those lands where he was known, outshone the color of his skin in the eyes of even the small-minded men. So, soon, will my own." "A reputation for heroic deeds?" Entreri asked with a doubting laugh. "Are you to become a hero for the land, then?" "That, or a reputation for leaving burned-out villages behind me," Jarlaxle replied. "Either way, I care little."

(bolded for emphasis)

What's interesting to note here is that Jarlaxle claims not to care, but then later on a fight breaks out when Kimmuriel and Rai'gy send a group of wererats in to ambush Jarlaxle and Entreri, and this happens:

He took a moment to glance Jarlaxle's way then and saw the drow up in the air, levitating and turning circles, daggers flying from his pumping arm. Following their paths, Entreri saw one wererat, and another, stumble backward under the assault. A farmer grabbed at his calf, a blade deeply embedded there. Jarlaxle purposely hadn't killed the human, Entreri noted, though he surely could have.

This, by the way, continues on throughout the Sellswords trilogy. Jarlaxle and Artemis repeatedly find themselves in situations where people are hostile towards them largely due to Jarlaxle's race, and Jarlaxle always makes a point of diffusing the situation whether or not it is justified. He's not above embarrassing the occasional drunkard, of course, but he does go above and beyond to give people the benefit of the doubt, and we also see an example of this in a short story that takes place I believe between the first and second book, in which Jarlaxle and Entreri enter a tavern and the waitress appears nervous over Jarlaxle's presence and has trouble serving them, and when Entreri lashes out at her, Jarlaxle is the one to admonish him for his behavior.

So, why does he do this? Why does Jarlaxle go to so much effort to give the benefit of the doubt to people who, arguably, may not always be deserving of it?

Section 2: Why Jarlaxle is surprisingly successful at breaking down social barriers

Even if his attempts at keeping the peace don't always work out in his favor, one thing that his traveling companions (especially Entreri) tend to pick up on his that he is really, really good at breaking down social barriers.

For example, Entreri notices in the beginning of Promise of the Witch-King that Jarlaxle makes quick work of befriending a group of adventurers that includes a surface elf, also known as the sworn enemy of Lolthite drow. The group is initially standoffish toward him as he approaches, and they very quickly come around as he makes them laugh.

What makes Jarlaxle so charming, and earns him a bit more leeway and good will than most drow trying to make it on the surface, is the fact that he is really, really good at extending social grace to people and giving them the benefit of the doubt even in situations where they have not done so themselves. He even tells Entreri in this same book, point blank, "charm is a learned skill" and he's not wrong.

Jarlaxle has an easier time winning people over because he prioritizes making them feel good vs making them feel bad. When you put people on the defensive, they will almost always double-down on whatever behavior it is you want them to change. But if you show compassion or understanding or try to make them feel better in some way, they're going to be way more likely to come around to your point of view.

Remember that bit I bolded from Entreri saying "it will always be like this"?

If Jarlaxle had given up and gone back to Menzoberranzan, he'd probably be right. But as it stands, Jarlaxle did not do that; he instead fought to build a society in which drow can safely live on the surface and mingle with its inhabitants. Lolth's Warrior even ends with him leading thousands of refugees from Menzoberranzan to the surface and securing a better future for them, and that is an absolutely monumental achievement on his part.

And what makes Jarlaxle so inspiring and also very compelling to me, personally, is the fact that he really doesn't get terribly caught up on the concept of "deserving." This has been a constant for him throughout the series, and it becomes very apparent at the end of Lolth's Warrior when he makes a point to stand behind Quenthel and refuses to give her up during his negotiations with Sos'Umptu.

Section 3: It's not about 'deserve...'

...it's about what you believe.

"We will destroy everything you desire in House Baenre, I promise, should it come to that. But it should not! You will have Matron Shakti Hunzrin at your side. And with Malagdorl freed by you, House Barrison Del'Armgo will not oppose you. Make of him your patron and your weapon master in House Baenre! The play is so obvious, and with House Baenre and Barrison Del'Armgo joined, who will argue? You will have the peace you need to rebuild." "And what do you get in return?" Sos'Umptu asked. "We leave." "Leave?" He hid the smile he felt at her bemusement. "We leave. All who will go. We leave Menzoberranzan, the City of Spiders, the City of Lolth. We leave never to return, and with your word that you will not pursue us." "I cannot give you that word. I serve Lolth." "Then just let us leave, and we will do what we must if it comes to that." "The Blaspheme remains." "You would not want that and I cannot offer that." Sos'Umptu sat back for a bit and considered her reply, seeming to agree with the former part, at least. "Quenthel is doomed. She stays and pays for her great heresy." "No." "No?" "No. As I said: all who want to must be allowed to go. Besides, I cannot make decisions for her. Do you not understand that? Do you not understand what this is all about, what it has been about since the beginning? It is about individual choice and freedom. Personal agency to determine life and faith—yes, faith! Mostly faith! How can you demand fealty to a goddess from those who do not worship her? Why would she even want them? Why would you want them causing only unrest in your city? That's what we fought for, Sos'Umptu. Lolth was a symbol of the oppression, nothing more." Sos'Umptu laughed at him. "You always were an idiot, Jarlaxle, believing that others carried such pride as you have within your heart. You never saw Lolth as your great mother and so you are arrogant enough to believe that all others feel as you do." "Not all. Not you, clearly." "Not hardly all," Sos'Umptu said.

For those of you who haven't read the books (or have only read a few), Quenthel is one of Jarlaxle's sisters, and was, up until this point, the Matron Mother of House Baenre. And as Matron Mother, she personally victimized Jarlaxle and several of his men many, many, many times. She arguably is wholly undeserving of Jarlaxle's compassion here.

Which only makes Jarlaxle's refusal to give her up that much more important and moving. Because here's the thing: he *could* have done it, and it likely would have made negotiations a bit easier for him. He had no way of knowing that Sos'Umptu was going to be willing to concede that much, and he took a huge risk at losing everything to stand up for Quenthel.

And really, I don't think anyone would have even held it against him if he'd given her up; they'd have accepted it as a loss for the greater good or, likely in many cases, would've felt she deserved it.

But to Jarlaxle, it wasn't a question of deserve or doesn't deserve. After all, his closest friends tend to be people who murder to cope with their traumas, and he has taken it upon himself to give all of them a chance to better themselves whether or not they've 'earned' it in any way.

Section 4: The Takeaway, from an RP Standpoint

And now, let's think about what we've learned of Jarlaxle — or what we've learned from Jarlaxle:

Extending social grace to people who are not acting friendly towards you is not a sign of personal weakness, but in fact very much the opposite

Giving people the benefit of the doubt may not always feel justified or deserved, but it absolutely can benefit you to do so

People learn and grow when they are given opportunity and support

With that in mind, here is some advice on how to play Jarlaxle as a DM:

For the love of Lolth (or not), don't have him murder or otherwise betray Soluun or any of his other men. This take comes up with alarming regularity in discussions about Waterdeep: Dragon Heist and it absolutely grinds my gears. Jarlaxle would not approve of Soluun's activities, but his solution would not be to just throw him under the bridge and be done with it. Realistically, if your players were to reveal his activities to him, Jarlaxle would likely pull him away and not give him any further opportunities to murder innocent people.

Also, keep in mind that Jarlaxle immediately forgave his lieutenants for starting a coup and attempting to murder him. He immediately took responsibility for his own lapses in judgment during Servant of the Shard and even appointed Kimmuriel as his co-leader to keep his worst impulses in check. Had Rai'gy and Berg'inyon survived, he'd have pardoned them, too (though he probably not have promoted them like he did Kimmuriel lol)

Jarlaxle's charm is meant to deceive would-be adversaries, yes, but it's not the only reason he uses it. Jarlaxle genuinely does not want bloodshed if it can be avoided, and he tries to find solutions to conflicts that are mutually beneficial. If your players end up befriending him or wanting to side with him? Run with it. Jarlaxle is almost always willing to make a deal, and he is not going to go out of his way to attack or attempt to kill the players unless they absolutely force his hand, and it'd take something really, really extreme for that to even be on the table in the first place.

While he probably wouldn't admit it even under torture, there is an undercurrent of self-loathing that guides a lot of Jarlaxle's actions, and is part of the reason he goes out of his way to be compassionate (even if he'd never use that word to describe himself). Jarlaxle's charm and vanity is meant to knock his enemies off balance and keep the peace in situations where a fight might break out, but it's not all of who he is as a person. Much of what he does in the more recent books comes down to lasting guilt and trauma due to his perceived failures to protect and save people he cared about.

While he may use some really under-handed methods for achieving his goals at times, he does usually have pretty decent if not outright good intentions behind them. With this in mind, if players are willing to negotiate with him, do not play him as an unreasonable hard-ass. This man loves diplomacy and will almost always prioritize finding a peaceful solution over violence. He will absolutely convince your players that his and their goals are aligned, and honestly? There's a pretty good chance they will be, if they aren't already. I realize this is basically point #3 re-phrased but I just can't emphasize it enough because 80% of the fandom completely fell for his act and never looked any further. Yes, yes, he's the funny hat man who fucks, but there's just SO MUCH MORE to him than that.

And lastly (for now lol) Jarlaxle loves flirting and enthusiastic consent, but — and this is very, very important! — he absolutely draws a hard line at violating someone else's (or his own) bodily autonomy. If you choose to let him/the PCs flirt, please for the love of god keep that in mind. Jarlaxle will happily flirt and play around (and more) but if another character isn't into it he will absolutely stop and respect their boundaries. He wants to have fun and if the other person/people involved are not having fun, then neither is he.

Section 5: And lastly: how can we apply what we have learned from Jarlaxle to our personal lives?

I also think that Jarlaxle's example is not just important from an RP perspective, but from a human perspective, because at the end of the day, odds are we've all encountered people in our lives who were rude to us, or treated us poorly, or offended us in some other way. That is a fact of life and it is something that all of us have to deal with at some point.

And the truth is, giving in to cruelty is easy. Holding grudges is easy. Writing people off is easy.

But giving people opportunity to learn and grow, and showing compassion to people who have wronged you absolutely is not, and very often we get caught up on the question of "does this person deserve it?" but we neglect to ask ourselves "how am I helping [this cause/this person/myself]?"

And of course, that is not to say that there aren't situations IRL in which it IS better to burn bridges, because of course there are. But if you take some time out of your day to ask yourself that last question, you might be surprised to learn that extending a bit of social grace yourself, even (or especially!) in situations where it might not feel deserved, can actually be beneficial not just to the other person but to YOU.

Could the cashier have bagged your groceries wrong because they're a jerk and wanted to hurt you, personally? Yeah, sure, but does it benefit anyone to assume that is the case and get worked up about it? Probably not.

Did the person who cut you off in traffic do it because they're a jerk? Possibly. But is holding a grudge going to give you peace of mind, or is it going to ruin your day?

Sometimes people are assholes because they feel like it, but most of the time people are assholes because they feel justified and/or slighted in some way, and while it might not always feel justified on YOUR part, extending social grace and forgiveness will benefit you more often than not even if it isn't the easiest thing in the world to do.

#legend of drizzt #jarlaxle baenre #jarlaxle meta #lolth's warrior spoilers #I keep going back and editing this lol #but another point I'd like to add is that while being diplomatic was an absolute MUST for Jarlaxle during his life in Menzoberranzan #he does not HAVE to be so understanding and forgiving of people on the surface #but he actively CHOOSES to #and what makes this great is that it's not framed as a weakness by the narrative even in those instances where it doesn't work out for him #honestly I wrote this while I had a raging headache and was burnt out from work so there's a lot more I probably missed #that'll have to come in another post I think

[venusdevotea]

My Tavs!

I've been lurking on BG3 tumblr for a while, but I wanted to finally make a proper post showing off my characters! I've got a couple of campaigns going on, and I'm always looking to make new characters and explore different playstyles and think of fun lore. It's been so awesome to connect with other members of the community too, namely @basketobread's gorgeous mind and OC's, creator our best girl Lunara!

Without further ado, here is my first Tav Tal'riia!

I had originally named her Karliah after the legendary archer of the nightingales in Skyrim, but then got annoyed that her name was too similar to Karlach's, so I changed it. I usually run rogues or clerics in my irl dnd campaigns, so again she was originally a rogue but then quickly realized Astarion was a rogue too so.... to make more sense having him in my party all the time, I changed her class to ranger and holy hell was that sick as FUCK. I made her strong type at first so she gives off femme himbo vibes (lovable loser rizz) because GOD I missed like half of the content in my first run.

She is a Seladrine Drow Ranger!! Honestly haven't thought much of her personal lore because I just went for what I thought sounded super awesome to me off rip. I don't have any pictures of her in scene, because I just didn't think to take more tbh and I wasn't super proud of many of my choices and the things I missed in my excitement to finish the game asap to then.... start my next run!

Which brings us to my next two OC's, a re-run of Tal'riia's story and my first Durge Muerta! I... ended up deleting my first campaign and ran a whole do-over, since like I said, I felt increasingly dumb as time went on and after consuming more and more bg3 content online, I realized just how much I had missed in my first campaign.... SO brings us to a re-realized Tal'riia with a different skillset and playstyle. I went for sorcerer/tempest cleric, because I had heard how strong that build was, and with the cheats ring I got from the basket equipment mod, I had a lot of fun playing around. I've got a couple pics of her here:

Tal'riia 2: Electric Boogaloo Seladrine Drow Sorcerer/Tempest Cleric (I'll post more pics of her when I get back to her story!)

Of course had to also start my first Durge Run, which I chose to go a good route (I'm too nice even in rp to go full evil, but idk, I might try it soon!) and I decided to run an eldrich fighter Durge because I feel fighter makes more sense of a chosen of Bhaal than a sorcerer? But idk that's just me. Here's Muerta!

I actually have such an unhealthy obsession with her Muerta Half Wood-Elf Eldrich Knight Fighter (Yes the lightning jabber build) Heart of gold, little murder-y at times, but ultimately does resist her Urges. What's a little murder between friends!! Red rum is my drink of choice at a bar! POV: Durge is also casually your bff. Honestly pretty normal. Just don't meet the parents...... or the sister.

I'll share my next campaign in a separate post here. This campaign I'm running based on my dnd character I'm playing in an irl campaign with friends! I made our whole party in the character selection screen, but only moved forward with my character because.... there's only so many unfinished adventures I can have lol.

#bg3 #bg3 posting #bg3 tav #baldurs gate 3 #my tavs #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 oc #bg3 ocs #tav tal'riia #durge muerta #tav posting

[alpydk]

Cabinet of Oddities (Part 19)

Stealth edits are incoming. Mostly to CH8 to dampen the smut. The next chapter is written and I find it too beautiful to want to smut it up further so the smut level of the entire piece has come down. (Sorry to those who wanted real smut). Honestly, I'm just enjoying writing this all so much and I am so so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to even read one chapter, let alone the amazing people who have left comments. Sorry, I'm just riding the post-CH20 high.

Ao3 link

Summary: Not long from now they would travel to defeat Kethric Thorm. Everyone seemed to be spending their last moments of freedom in different ways.

Thomas stood against the pillar watching her as she woke in the astral plane. “My sweet little mask, how I’ve longed to see you again.” 

Nana stared at him sceptically. “I know you’re not him. You can stop playing games.”

“Nana, come now. You know me.” His voice softened slightly trying to convince her.

She looked away trying to not let him sway her. “Gale said not to trust you. And after what happened before I know I shouldn’t.”

He took a seat next to her. “I’ve done nothing to harm you. I’ve protected you, just as I used to.”

She felt his presence next to her. He seemed different, softer, weaker. “Are you okay?” She didn’t want to believe it was him. She didn’t want to be used and manipulated as she had been five years ago and yet she still cared deeply for him. This time would be different. She would say no if she had to.

“Yes, yes I am.” Nana heard the strain in his voice, her memories going crazy, reminding her of his death. She pulled herself close to him and held him fearing that this would be the same, that in moments she would lose him again. He wrapped his arms around her and it took all her strength not to start sobbing in his arms. She had missed him so much and yet Gale’s gentle voice still rang out in her head.

He slowly released her from his grasp. “It’s been a while since somebody did that for me.” 

“Five years…” She whispered. 

-------------------------------

She stood on the balcony of the Last Light Inn looking out over the blackened waters. Another restless night where her mind trailed from Thomas to Gale trying to trace a path of similarities and differences between the two. “I just want to do what’s best for him. To hear his voice.”  

Not long from now they would travel to defeat Kethric Thorm. Everyone seemed to be spending their last moments of freedom in different ways. Gale had taken to secluding himself in his room at the inn and although Nana had tried talking to him he always seemed distracted. He’d rub at the orb on his chest and she would hear quiet prayers to Mystra as she left the room. 

Shadowheart and Karlach had also taken to a room but the noises had been very different, Karlach clearly making up for lost time or trying to seize the moment before their inevitable defeat at the hands of The General. 

Nana had tried to bother Wyll only to find him training tieflings outside. He’d taken his attention off one of them for a second as she had approached only to end up taking a rapier blade into his armour. The children were learning. This had meant though that she’d ended up alone with her thoughts. 

She pondered over her reaction to the drow elf. “I shouldn’t have reacted so forcefully. A no would have been enough. That rage. He’s back under my skin. I feel him there.” She muttered to herself and she flexed her fingers trying to relieve the tension in them. 

-------------------------------

Astarion had been watching her for some time, judging whether he should approach her or not. Trying to decide if it was worth thanking her for the doll that he’d placed carefully in his pack. He wanted to hate it but in combination with her scaring the drow, he’d ended up hiding it away. He hadn’t needed her care. With the worm and its advantages, he had been learning his strengths, learning that no was an option. If Nana can reject you… He shook the thought away. No, she wasn’t to thank for his new choices but he could at least give her a little credit. The fear she’d put in the drow’s eyes had at least been entertaining. He took a step forward towards the balcony resting his delicate hands over the flaking wooden bannister. 

“Under your skin. So you finally succumbed fully to Gale’s charms then?” he said with a devilish smile at her.

“What? Oh no, no. I’m not sure how ready I am for any of that yet.” She gave a nervous laugh.

“Still playing the part of the innocent virgin then, I see.”

She shook her head and he noticed the blush rise on her cheeks. “I wish it was just an act. After- Well you know the story. When someone has been under your skin like that, used you…” She pulled her arms into herself and gazed down at the bannister. “...Broke you, you don’t want to let anyone get close, no matter how much you might want it. At least not until you can be sure.”

He understood her all too well. The centuries of Cazador's abuse had left him a shell of what he once was. He sighed deeply realising they were more similar than he had liked. “Nana, I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered.”

“I’m sorry, Astarion.” She kept her gaze on the wood in front of her which he was thankful for. 

“Look, I wanted to speak to you about the doll and what you did at Moonrise.” He turned to look at her, his eyes examining her closed-off posture, her defences up. “It would have been so easy to bite her. To just go along with what I was being told to do. A moment of disgust to force myself through. And then I could have carried on, just like before.”

“Is that what you would have done with me, all those moons ago? A moment of disgust?”

He was caught off guard by the question and looked away from her trying to bite back the shame that crept up his spine. “It would have been so easy.”

She gave a small nod and picked at the dirt that lay under her fingernails.

“But now…I’m more than that. More than a thing to be used.” She lifted her head, her eyes forgivingly pointed in his direction. He felt embarrassed by his words, as if opening up had made him weak and he would have followed up with a deflective joke if she hadn’t spoken first.

“We’re going to kill your master, aren’t we?” This was not the response he had anticipated. He had expected a hug, a friendly comment of caring and concern. But violence, revenge? This was more his style than hers.

“Maybe. But I'm not even sure he can be killed. Cazador’s a vampire lord, his power…” He batted her question away trying not to pay too much attention to it. She really is insane if she thinks we can take him on.

Nana smiled and he noticed there was a malicious flash behind her eyes. “There is always a way to kill someone. You just have to be creative enough.”

Darling, you have a mask for every occasion. 

----------------------------------

Gale paged through the journal. It had become a habit when he could not find answers elsewhere. He knew his time was running out and he had tried to distance himself away from those he had grown to care about. He was terrified of what was to come, the shadows of the curse not the only ones darkening his spirits. The book brought comfort. Poems of love, and comments of joy written about himself. Yes, it was self-indulgent, but to be loved for who he was, not for his wizarding abilities, not for the knowledge he had or his charisma and charm. No, to be loved simply for being him. For silly things like his eyes or his voice. Love, to love again…

He turned the pages, mud sticking them together. He’d managed to salvage the first half of the book and although the latter half was in better condition, corners had become ripped and frail and some were still stuck together. This poor book. A ribbon stuck in the centre of one and he peeled it slowly up leaving a faded trail between the words. He sighed as he began to read.

I hear you whispering. I see the blood on my hands. You made me do this. I tried to fight you this time and now you’re gone and I miss you again. I know I need you to protect me. I’m sorry. Why do you have to do this? I know it’s not right. Why do I feel your sick pleasure in my mind afterwards? Who are you? I’m your sweet mask and you’re hiding behind me. But you love me, you wouldn’t do anything to harm me. These people deserved to die, didn’t they?

Gale skipped a few pages. He needed something more recent. Something happier to fulfil his needs. 

He’s so kind. He talked for hours today about a place in Faerûn; Waterdeep. I’ve never been there before but it sounded beautiful. He told me about his tower there, the culture, and how women would wear silk gowns. He says there is the Blackstaff Academy that goes way back and how he used to study there. The whole city sounds like a dream and I can only hope that one day I’ll visit. Maybe I could find a silk gown and be one of those women he spoke so fondly of. I’ll braid my hair and be someone worthy of him. We could walk arm in arm throughout the streets and people would come up and talk to us. We could laugh at high society jokes and share wine that we wouldn’t check the price on. I’d let him read on his balcony and bring him fresh tea. I’d run my hand through his hair, I’d touch him. 

But I’m getting far too ahead of myself. It’s just been one night under the stars listening to him talk. But where's the harm in dreaming, of wondering what could be?

Gale eased the flutterings of his heart. To dream of these things? He could make them a reality for her. For one night alone, maybe he too could dream.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #galemance #bg3 fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #i dont care what anyone says this author has everything I want

[eff-plays]

Kind of late to the party, but I just skimmed through some of the discussion about Astarion's racism and narrative issues with the gnomes and Gur. Personally, I think it's an area that really should have been explored more post Cazzador. I have a post half-written about it that I can't find the right words for 😭.

But essentially, Astarion's reactions to both those groups of people are easily some of his worst traits. In game atleast. I don't find it fair to hold his data mined EA backstory against him as it was never mentioned or canon even then. What he does and says in-game about them is bad enough and should be explored more.

The thing about both of these groups though is it blends his trauma with his straight from the tap shittiness. For all that he clearly shows he is racist towards gnomes (cool gag bit Larian??) There are also narrative reasons for him to be reacting badly to them given where he is in his character arc. Doesn't excuse it. But he does have flawed perceptions of power and victimhood that he clings to up until the last second when fighting Cazzador. He is not ready to grow on any of these fronts when first encountering the Gur and gnomes.

But Spawn Astarion would have been the perfect avenue for showing his growth and clarifying things to the audience. Taking Spawn Astarion to the Iron Throne and having him very clearly tell Tav they have to rescue them? Maybe with some uncomfortable coughing and whispering it under his breath cause he doesn't want to come off like he cares THAT much. It wouldn't need to come off like he's a Wyll-esque hero. Just a begrudging, "Well, I've kind of committed to this whole getting better thing. God's this is annoying. Why is it so much work?" Kind of similar to when he puts forward rescuing the kid from the hag. Maybe getting really triggered or angry over the kind of tools the Bannites are employing to keep the gnomes in line?

Same thing with taking him back to the Gur camp after Cazzador. There being more discussion. Maybe him being appreciative of the work they do because he hopes that no more Cazzador's take root in BG and Gur are a good force against such things. The bad blood isnt buried, but there's a respect between them. Maybe a bit of repentance in his vibe. But he's still bitchy and exasperated all the while.

I think that having Spawn Astarion have more unique dialogue about these groups would have tied up his narrative with them better- but also would have opened the lid on his character growth more.

Flipside is, if he had more reactions and they WEREN'T positive- it would show that despite the growth he's gone through, Astarion is independently a really shitty guy. It doesn't have to be because of his feelings about power- somtimes he's being racist just because that's who he is. Which I think would let the audience make more informed opinions about him.

Anywayssss

Yeah just saw the discussion and it got my brain going over this again. Sorry this is so long.

I do agree that holding EA stuff that was written out against him is unfair, heck I think Player!Astarion and Companion!Astarion are barely even the same guy.

And yeah, I think him having so little reactivity makes sense from an economic standpoint, but it does muddle his character and stifle his character growth (or lack thereof) a lot. Like I haven't played all of Act 3 (I deleted my first playthrough before I could finish it because I missed a lot of stuff I wanted to include, and then when my second playthrough got to Act 3, the patch came out and the game broke), but I do remember seeing a video of all of the companions reacting to the PC sleeping with Mizora? And he's totally chill with it and jokes about it?

Which always felt really weird to me. I feel like if you do this before his endings, wouldn't he be insecure? Like how he is if you try to bring in Halsin or have a foursome with the drow twins? If it's the Spawn ending, wouldn't he be upset? That you didn't tell him? That you hurt Wyll and Karlach? And wouldn't Ascended Astarion get catty and/or pissed that you fucked someone without him/his permission?

Idk what Larian was going for with his reaction to that at all tbh, like ... "Well he's the horny evil one so obviously he'll be okay with it for shits and giggles" is the vibe I got.

Sorry, that was kind of irrelevant to what you were saying, but it did feel like a microcosm of the issue. I'm hoping once they start putting in more story content (I heard Theo Solomon was recording more stuff for Wyll so fingers crossed!!) that the other characters need, they will also go back and shuffle around some logic for how the characters react depending on the outcomes of their storylines, esp Astarion because of how vastly different he can turn out.

Cuz there are bits of that, like apparently he reacts differently to Lae'zel killing [spoiler character] depending on his ending? And is a lot more merciful or cruel? Would be good to see more of that.

#bg3 #astarion #bg3 spoilers #long post

[comicgoblinwrites]

Finally getting around to actually posting my Tav, Lia.

I’ve got a pretty well developed backstory for them because I played them in a full campaign prior to bg3, and just tied it in.

They’re an ex-Lolth sworn Drow, turned Selunite cleric/fighter, and then some other things. Their previous adventure (which took them through like, level 10 or so?) was in Ravenloft, so it got pretty dark.

Name: Lerial, Lia.

Non-binary, they/she. Drow. Cleric of Selune Nextal Selune. Also multiclassed into a fighter.

Weapons: Shortsword, Rapier, Longsword

Armor: shield, scale or chain mail

More under the cut:

Backstory!

Lirael (Lia) was born to the small drow house Helviafin. Lia was expected to follow their aunt into the priestesshood, and studied in the realm of drow religion, history, and magic. Lia was raised, primarily, by their sister, Drana, and their aunt. And Drana didn’t care much for Drow politics OR religion, and preferred secretly spending time away from the Underdark, on the surface, and took Lia with her on occasional visits. They’d go to the city, or to visit Drana’s partner on the surface. It all started making Lia question things more. If they’d both had the wherewithal to leave sooner, things probably would have ended better. Things culminated with their aunt and the house finding out about their excursions. It didn’t turn out well. Drana’s surface dwelling lover was executed and Drana when Lia was about 50-55 (not an adult yet). Lia eventually left the house, but not gently, and burning quite a lot of bridges (and temples) on her way out.

They ended up at a small temple of Selune, where they spent quite a while (years), getting their feet under them and studying, learning medicine, and about the surface and the world beyond their house. They’ve never had the most stable relationship with the gods, even Selune, and they still have a lot of uncertainty and a hard time trusting. Eventually they took to the road, and spent several years traveling and working primarily as a healer, and eventually adventuring as well.

Until they took a wrong turn into Ravenloft. (This was a campaign that I played in for a while, but we didn’t finish, so I’ve been working with our GM on the What Would Have)

They were in Ravenloft for the better part of 10 years (for them), where, since they lost contact with Selune, swore themself as a cleric of Nextal, a near forgotten god of death. While in the Domains of Dread they became a pretty powerful cleric—a death shepherd—and had a hand in stopping the rise of a new god, helped balance the cycles of life and death in Ravenloft, and fought in a war between several Darklords of the Domains of Dread. But Ravenloft is a generally terrible place and eventually Lia got depressed and desperate enough that she wrangled a way to return to Faerûn. In doing so they were stripped of all the cleric abilities they had from Nextal, and ended up back in the mortal plane, with little magic and only foggy memories of Ravenloft.

AND THEN, pretty much right after they get back, the Nautaloid appears and they’re snatched.

Lia is Mist Touched—because they spent so long in Ravenloft, traveling in the Mists, the Mists are always right at their heel, trying to take them back to Ravenloft. But it takes them a while to notice this, and they don’t tell any of their new companions about it because they have bigger things to worry about. And it’s their own problem anyway. Right? (Wrong.)

—

I might or might not have a 4 chapter mini-series comic written about all this. I also have a bunch of fics simmering because the tad fools have taken over my brain.

#bg3 #d&d #d&d character #Lia #bg3 tav #baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate fanart #baldurs gate oc #character #non binary characters #nonbinary character #queer characters #cleric #fighter #fighter class #cleric class #ravenloft #dungeons and dragons #original character #art #character art #my art #my characters

[sorcerous-caress]

Hi hun I figured I'd send this over if you're not busy and see what you thought! I'm sure I'll post officially but I've still got a lot of works to transfer first and got too excited! 

I got inspired by your Human Kink stuff and Riff's request so this is super self-indulgent but I still hope you enjoy it!

I don't have a lot of experience so I thought you'd be the best person to go to if anything seemed off. I'm still figuring out genders, and classes but this was what I came up with. I'm bi with a male lean and I may go reverse harem style cause I'm weak for those in otome, but also female tieflings are really hot so we’ll see how the wind blows 🤣

My only experience atm is the little of BG3 I've played and Critical Role, where I'm currently up to Campaign 1, Episode 19 so I looked up a lot and hope it's accurate. Unrelated, but every time I think of Drow I can't help but picture Aaravos from The Dragon Prince. Not technically a Drow but he's that world's version of a kind of dark elf if I'm remembering right. His deep, sultry voice does not help. Come to think of it, he was probably the one who made me realize I had a thing for Elves even before BG3 came out. 😅

Tried to put a gif here but the ask broke both times I've tried to and this is now my 3rd time reformatting 😭 If you look him up you'll see what I mean and why he reminds me of the way you portray Drow- very smirky arrogant, similar appearance and such!

Human Kink DND Party

Human Bard

Nadton Aleanmtor(“Cunning/Darkness” Male Drow Rouge) 

Ivelran Galamaer (“Starwhispher” Eladrin) Wizard

Eya (“Pandaemonium” Tiefling) Fighter

Hookt(real Changeling name) Vesper (fake Human name) Artificer 

Valtir (Aasimar Cleric)

“You shouldn't have that; give it back!”

Your pulse rabbited against his hand and the Drow laughed, cooing into your ear, relishing the way you shivered. You looked so pretty like this. He had his hand around your fragile throat, holding you steady against the tree while he whispered into your ear from behind. 

“Shh shh shh, little Human. You don't want the rest of the camp to hear, now do you? Think of what would happen if they found out~”

You freeze, biting back a whimper.  

“You read it? That was private-”

“Should've done a better job of hiding it then. Under your mattress, little Human? You couldn't even string together a simple invisibility charm? Clearly it didn't matter much to you if I saw.”

He felt the way you swallowed and his grin turned to a knowing smirk. 

“Don't you worry. It'll be our little secret, for now. I rather like the idea of being able to make you whine and squeal for me and me alone with such a pathetic little weakness.”

He hissed on the word pathetic and chuckled at the way you twitched and squeaked at his breath on your ear. 

“What's wrong, Human? Too ticklish for your own good?”

You were already giggly from anticipation.

“Please dohohon't say it!”

He cooed in mock sympathy, and the fingers around your neck began to tap, making you try to pull his hand away. His grip held firm however and you gasped as his other hand pinched at your side, rushing to grab his other wrist for all the good it did you. 

“How precious you are like this. You whined and complained oh so often about wanting to be treated as an equal- but that was all a farce, wasn't it? You truly wanted to be here, to be teased and tormented into submission by someone greater than you.”

That annoyed you, and you opened your mouth to snap at him, swallowing back your giggles with difficulty in an attempt to be taken seriously. 

“You're wrong; you'll pay for-hnngh!”

You squealed as his left hand wrapped around your side, squeezing ticklishly. His right hand loosened, and he began tracing patterns into your neck. 

His voice was raspy with a dark warning. 

“Oh I really wouldn't talk back if you know what's good for you dearest. You can, I'd relish the excuse to put you in your place, but I'm afraid you're much too sensitive for such idle threats.”

“You don't have to do this. Please. Just pretend you never found it!”

You squirmed more vehemently and he finally released you, letting you stumble away to glare at him as he sauntered out from behind the tree, stopping momentarily to pick up your diary from the forest floor. 

“I could, but why would I? You're so much fun to toy with, and now? I have even more ammunition. I only read the first chapter so to speak, there's so much more fun to be had after all. Why spoil it for myself?  Let it never be said I don't even the playing field, even with a Human.”

He tosses your diary in the air and you fumble to catch it, hugging it to your chest as you manage to grasp it with a sigh of relief. When you look up you can't help the way you backup a step instinctually, but otherwise hold your ground, refusing to let your glare waver as he hovered over you.  

“Nadton. What do you want now?”

He smirks, crimson irises alight with amusement. 

“I just wanted to offer you a piece of advice. Get a stronger lock this time, yes? I do so relish a challenge. I'm looking forward to what other dirty little secrets you've written for me~” 

A flash of teeth and his laughter had your face burning in angry embarrassment as he left you, white hair swaying behind him as a breeze blew through. 

You didn't plan on giving him access again, perhaps Vesper could create a lock? He could be playful, but you didn't think he'd break your trust and his Artificer knowledge may prove beneficial. Ivelran too, was an option. Despite his currently quiet demeanor, given he was in his Winter season, you trusted him too. He'd never liked Nadton and had strongly disagreed on allowing him to join your party but you felt too bad for him not to- given the shape he'd been in at the time.  His pride hadn't allowed him to ask you for help, and he told you to fuck off when he’d caught the concern in your eyes, but you just couldn't leave well enough alone. He may be able to whip up a more magically based protection.  

Now? He didn't leave even when you asked him to. He followed you everywhere, and was a ruthless bully. Kept you all alive, though. He'd saved all of your lives on many an occasion. …Even if he only saved you so he could boast about his talents and how dead you'd all be without him there.  

You'd just have to prove him wrong, that's all. Let's see how weak he thought you were when he couldn't break the lock, or detect it in the first place! With a determined nod to yourself you headed back to camp for the night, trying to get what little sleep you could. 

Hope you've been well and are excited for the New Year! Still fighting off this sickness but I'm heading down to North Carolina to spend time with family early on Friday. Hope this wasn't too cringy, I know it's really self-indugent 🫣

-S

Good food good food

I like how you gave them distinct names and personality. It was really good to read! Thanks for sharing <3

I say go full self indulgence really. All art is cringy by nature. You are writing a story, you have characters, motives, a setting and an end goal. It's as real and as valid as any other story.

Because the self-indulgence part is subjective to the reader really. Someone like me would be over the moon for finding a story like that, i would happily stay up all night to read about the human and their companions.

To other people it depends on their tastes. Every jar has its lid and every story has its target audience, no one can really decide what counts as a story and what doesn't, only the author who wrote it.

People have a tendency to belittle smut writers, to overlook smut or kink based stories as just glorified porn. As if sex is something that lowers the value of art.

They're stuck in their worlds of sterile and sensitised arts, where everything has to be clean or only have majorly liked kinks but "oh never actually call them kinks because we are normal you see, unlike the other non-normal people with their weird niche interests."

Because even critically claimed stories do have hints of their creators' kinks or interest, it just flies over most people's heads. Or it's so widely spread that people forget it's even a kink anymore cough softcore-hetro bdsm cough.

On the opposite side, children media also gets belittled for not having things like kissing or cursing or sex, as if those things give meaning to art and without them the art is for babies and shouldn't be consumed since it has no mature themes.

It's really hypocritical, isn't it? They don't want too much sexual content or niche kinks because then it's a porno, but if there is none at all, then it's considered immature. It's completely subjective yet they think they get to decide what belongs in art and what doesn't. As if even the smallest of things can't be art like the way electrons orbit a nucleus isn't art.

Because smut and sex is just...sex. it doesn't have a higher or lower meaning. Your story doesn't benefit from having it, and it doesn't suffer from the lack of it.

It's a tool like any other you can use in your story.

Think of it as eating a cake, maybe some authors will use it as a metaphor for something else, a power play maybe.

While other authors include it because they genuinely like cake and want to write a story about the different cakes their characters get to eat.

Some authors don't like cake at all themselves, but still write or read about their characters eating cake because they find it interesting or would like to explore it in a setting away from themselves.

Some do like cake but never put it in their works. Maybe they just rather their characters eat pizza or clean a kitchen or move the plot along rather than eat cake. Even if the author can be someone who is very open about their love for cake, doesn't mean their story has to have it.

And there are ones who don't like cake and don't write about it.

There are also ones who know cake is not appropriate for their demographic or customers. Maybe it's based on cultural differences or maybe because their demographic is too young and shouldn't be reading about eating it yet.

So, really, please don't think less of your story because it's based on a kink, so many works are, it's just not mentioned in public. If you don't want to tag it as such, then it's fine, but I think forcing people to acknowledge its true nature will make them have a new look on stories.

Also it filters out any reader who holds these ideas from reading your work. Even tho I mostly post light themed works, i still keep dark content in my bio because I don't want people who abhor or look down on these things to read my works.

#♡human kink #♡human reader #♡anonswriting #♡-S #♡writing

[autumnslance]

sorry if you've been asked before, but how did you initially get into roleplaying and learn how to improve at it and be comfortable rping? it seems like something difficult to learn, especially rping in video games, so i'm always interested in how exactly people adjust to it

OK, let me preface by saying I am old enough to remember the Satanic Panic of the ‘80s and actually read Chick Tracts that were at places I went to with my parents. Including the infamous one about Dungeons & Dragons. They were real dumb; even as a church-going kid I knew Christian media was by and large…very There in quality often, so much of it being overtly about morals and messaging (the best really is more subtle or flat-out silly about it, letting the characters and events speak for themselves with only just a little requisite shoehorning to appease their publishing house requirements). And Chick was…something with those hyperbolic comic stories.

So I didn’t get to RP at all until I was an adult (19ish years old), and in the army away from home and was introduced to it via an entirely different gaming system and world I’d never heard of before, the World of Darkness specifically, second edition, and I was a kid who loved supernatural things like werewolves and other shifters a lot. My first RP character ever for a game that only ran once was a Metis Fianna Galliard.

Bless White Wolf, they tried. The old editions have some serious Problems in various ways looking back now with what I’ve learned since, but they Tried.

I went to my first Vampire LARP in Augusta, Georgia while in job training—this was back in the fall/winter of ‘98 and ‘99–and when I got to Kansas I met up with the guys in my unit who RPed Palladium game systems (Rifts, Palladium, Robotech, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, etc). My first Vampire: The Masquerade char was a Toreador (artiste vampire). My first Palladium fantasy char was a bardic demigod. Then I settled into a I think half-elf druid in Rifts and was the only one interacting with the GM’s attempts at story while the other guys talked about minmaxing their megadamage and waited for me/my character to point them at things. At the local independent LARP in Kansas I swapped the Toreador for a young Tremere named Lynell Marsden.

My buddy and eventual roommate, the LARP GM, introduced me to a RPG-themed webcomic whose premise made it ripe for online roleplay, which the readership did initially on the old forums in play-by-post, and then also in IRC chat in a series of rooms we had. My main characters were an Amberite soldier-princess and a drow cleric/bard of Eilistraee I brought in from a D&D game after a few years, as I expanded to many, many other gaming systems, like D&D and Shadowrun, and so many others I can’t remember them all. I ended up helping narrate and do admin work for the LARP and the World of Darkness games we ran in our own town as well as at a small local convention we attended for several years.

And dear Anon, I sucked at RP in my 20s.

Cuz I was new and learning. What appealed to Young Me, once properly explained by a peer and seeing the game rule books, was that Roleplay is collaborative improv storytelling. It’s playing pretend—which I’ve always loved to do!—but with an actual ruleset and boundaries. As a writer, it sounded so neat to sit around creating characters and telling stories with friends. The rules were there as randomizer but also to help balance and make sure everyone could contribute (well, once one stopped playing freakin’ Rifts…).

In free form play-by-post, and in the IRC chat, there weren’t really rules like you’d find in a gaming book for at the table; you had whatever rules for the forum or chatroom the mods made, usually about being courteous and communicating, but the characters varied wildly. Each thread or room GM had their own ways to run their stories. Communication was key. Letting others get time in the spotlight. Making attempts, working things out, not being afraid to fail on purpose (even if your character was trying) cuz sometimes that was more interesting. We had some random commands for dice we sometimes used in the chat, but it could depend on who was running that particular session or storyarc.

It took practice. And mistakes I still look back on and wince at myself about, more for the times I hurt others or made things less fun for them, than my own creative errors that weren’t good for my characters (and I made bad choices for my characters aplenty). OK, and also for the times I spent staying up way too late roleplaying, plotting, chatting, when I should have been responsible and sleeping due to work and/or class in the mornings…But I also don’t entirely regret all those lost sleep hours.

LynMars, my common internet handle, comes from that Tremere I played for a few years in my friend’s LARP, before retiring her to play other characters. I made many Baby RPer mistakes on Lynell, she was a learning character, and while I messed her and her story up badly, I still love her as one of my firsts and ended up using her name as a handy online identity and also a reminder to myself.

You don’t have to do or be everything, especially on one character; everyone has specialties and limits, it’s what helps with the collaborative parts and team play. Learn and know your own boundaries. Respect others’ boundaries. Learn OOC doesn’t equal IC but also doesn’t give rein to be a jackass IC in a collaborative setting. Communicate. Be willing to collaborate and compromise. Be willing to lose as often as you win, sometimes the better story comes out of it. Build your characters with some grounding as people; give them flaws (sometimes their virtues taken too far can also count!), let them make mistakes, let them have their own stories so when they interact with other characters, you’re actually improv acting that person, not yourself in a funny hat.

I reconnected with my old webcomic-based group over the pandemic and people still talk fondly of my old characters and stories, and I have some good memories of theirs. A lot of things we all look back at 21-to-13-ish years later now and cringe and laugh at ourselves about, but the memories of those times are still mostly good and about the fun we had together back then, despite the clunky nature of our storytelling, our mishandled character concepts, the wank and stressors, the few bad apples we did have in the old community, the mistakes we made. We still remember the cool stuff and how it made us feel and why we sought each other out again to just say Hi. And in some cases, ended up playing games together again.

My experiences in forum and chatroom RP made the jump into MMO RP in WoW (back in Classic!) fairly easy, honestly. It was pretty much the same thing, only we had actual avatars and environments and in-built emotes as well as whatever gestures or settings we described for when the game didn’t have something. I wrote stories of my characters, many of them still up on my alt blogs, and collaborated on a few stories and RPs with friends.

After several years, some people had weird ideas I was “popular” and “established” and “good” so stirred up wank and jealousy that hit me out of the blue, especially since we were on a small server whose RP community was dying off as folks migrated away (from the server or WoW in general) and we were just among the last RP groups to still hang around out of inertia. They wanted to be a Big Fish in our drying-out pond, and didn’t like that I told them that it takes time and effort to build a story and a group with the reputation they sought, that one has to make time to run events on a regular basis and be there for it even if turn out isn’t great. I hope they’ve figured out what they want to do and better ways to do it since then.

Cuz even after 13ish years of WoW RP on top of all my tabletop and LARP and chatroom experiences, I still made some mistakes. I still sometimes ran and played in some mediocre to bad RP. For my characters and their stories, and in interactions with other RPers.

It’s OK. Learn from those errors, talk it out with your pals and others, keep IC and OOC knowledge and feelings separate, be willing to bend (not break; compromise means all involved parties have to give and get a little) for collaboration and interaction, know who you can only interact with in public RP events with a polite nod and small talk and otherwise not engage with—kinda like in real life, when you have to be tolerant or nice to those irritating classmates or coworkers but otherwise don’t deal with them more than you must.

It’s simply being social, with imagination thrown in. Remembering the stories are pretend, but there are real people behind those words and characters. The nuts and bolts of how to do emotes, which tense to use, whether to use /random or other dice commands…that’s just variable detail that can change as needed. Being a decent person OOC to make an enjoyable story—“good” or “bad”—IC with others is what’s important.

I don’t really RP online now, as I just don’t have the time or energy I used to—especially for the inevitable wank, as Roleplayers are by and large a dramatic bunch with our own hangups, awkwardness, and miscommunications galore (so many callout posts I’ve seen where I’ve wondered if the grievances were IC and came from lack of OOC communication about expectations, boundaries, and blurring the lines between characters and players. So many). These days I stick to my silly nonsense fanfics and some tabletop RP with friends—though due to us being scattered across the continent, we usually end up playing via Roll20 or similar programs to mimic it in an online environment, and even my local group’s had to do that during the pandemic and now with two players moving away soon, on top of the usual trials of being adults making time for games together. I could likely get into FFXIV RP easily enough, here on Tumblr and in game, if I were so inclined.

But it takes time. And constant learning. Figuring out the community norms and methods, which ones work for you, and which don’t. Giving yourself a bit of grace. Knowing your boundaries and respecting others’. Being social and willing to communicate, not being afraid of it, or making assumptions, giving benefit of the doubt—to yourself as much as to others. Patience. And just focusing on the fun and the good and who cares if it’s a bit cringey and weird and silly and dumb with outrageous characters so long as folks are feeling included, treated fairly, and having a good time.

That’s really what’s important.

#Lyn Prompts #Blogging #About Me #Roleplay #RPGs #Writing #Collaboration #Socialization #Pretendy Fun Times #Long Post

[artistant-dreaming]

The group I'm part of is currently playing the Curse of Stradh campaign in D&D.. It's not going that well, the team is way too split up, but the DM is doing a good job of keeping the dread of Baroiva strong enough to keep us together xD so here's a sketch I did of Ravenloft, or at least how it looks in my head!

#D&D #dungeons and dragons #the dread of barovia #ravenloft #yes - vampire babies #also playing the drow I posted a little while back #castle #digital #art #illustration #treescape #daybreak

[chockfullofsecrets]

Critical Role: The Importance of Timing, Ch 1

<<chapter navigation TBA>>

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb and Essek make the mistake of overworking themselves right before the Mighty Nein are scheduled for a reunion. Lessons are learned.

Wordcount: 3.6k (yeah, this one’s going to take a while)

A/N: making some more progress on my backlog of prompts (this one happens to be both from the most recent vote and this lovely anon prompt)! cross your fingers that this is going to be my first finished chapter fic lol

---

Caleb hardly remembers it, later.

It was evening - not particularly late, but after three near-sleepless nights time stretched into its own kind of viscous liquidity. Like a soup.

He laughed to himself at the absurdity of it, too tired for more than the barest expense of breath. Essek would know better than he, of course - he turned to him, intending to share the thought, and found a sheaf of notes thrust mere inches from his face.

“Here,” Essek said brusquely. Exhaustion did not lend itself to the usual smoothness of his speech. “I think I have it, finally - if we engrave it this way, the spell will replenish itself without interrupting conversation, yes?”

“Oh.” He took the papers, looking them over blearily - his eyes widened, a brief rush of vigor returning. “Oh, this is - oh, this is good! Let me just fabricate the surface smooth again and we can try-”

There was a crash from a location beyond the lab and therefore currently unimportant. Neither of them looked up.

The interruption, then, arrived unexpectedly.

“Hel-loooo!”came a lilting Nicodranian accent from the hall. “We got here early and you didn’t answer your door so we used our super cool magic powers to come in, and we should to-tally make a hammock themed room in the mansion tonight because I think Fjord is kind of land sick - Caleb, look at me, why do you look so terrible?”

Caleb knew the consequences of ignoring that voice. He looked up.

After hours of gazing at runes, his eyes refused to fully adjust and take in the three figures in the doorway. He squinted and managed to make out a bit of blue. “Jester?”

“They look tired right out, the poor things,” a purple blob pronounced from Jester’s right. “We haven’t missed out on an adventure, have we?”

“No,” Jester said, “Essek would never go out with his hair looking like that. Right, Essek? Aren’t you, like, super embarrassed that your hair’s all floppy right now?”

Sitting shoulder to shoulder with the floppy-haired drow in question, Caleb could just barely hear him hiss in protest at the interruption. “Leave, then, if it disturbs you so.”

Caleb blinked, starting to fumble together a sentence to dull the reprimand, and suddenly the remaining green blob resolved into Fjord as he put a hand on Caleb’s forehead and crouched to look into his eyes. “All right, it’s bedtime for you two. Jes, can you get Essek?”

“Wait-” Caleb grabbed weakly for the table, for his notes at least, but he was already being swept up in Fjord’s arms and carried bodily from the room. Essek sounded much more awake - and irate, frankly - behind him, trying to explain something, but it had been far too long since he had been anywhere near horizontal - with his head pillowed against Fjord’s bicep, he was asleep before they reached the stairs.

---

Waking is a slow process.

He is not alone - there’s a weight to being tangled up in someone else, the warm scent of closeness, and even without his eidetic memory he does not think he can ever forget the stony, moon-soaked smell of having his face buried in the crook of Essek’s shoulder.

He yawns lazily. Essek must be very tired, if Caleb is awake and he is not, and he is the better cook of the two of them anyway - although of course neither of them have any comparison to Caduceus, or Yasha now that it’s been several months since her last poisoning incident. He presses a gentle kiss to Essek’s jaw and rolls out of bed to get started with breakfast.

Or tries to, at least. His top half makes it out of bed easily enough, but the rest of him does not seem inclined to follow.

Something clanks at the foot of the bed as he narrowly hauls himself up from a quick trip to the floor. He props himself up on an elbow, halfway through another yawn, and finds himself staring down a pair of manacles hooked around his ankles.

He kicks cautiously. The chain threaded through his bed posts clanks again.

Panic begins to stir low in his gut. “Essek!”

There’s a sleepy murmur next to him. He twists to find Essek blinking awake - there’s not much else he can do, with his arms shackled above his head and his legs chained below in similar fashion. The cuffs are padded at least, stuffed with what looks to be worn handkerchiefs, and they’re both fully dressed in sleep clothes - their captors don’t want to hurt them, then, not yet.

Caleb scans the room frantically. The book he has been reading is still propped open on the bedside table, the door knob Essek had pried from an Aeorian ruin after Caleb had commented on its sparkle still proudly adorns the bathroom door, Kingsley is still leaning against the window-

He grins smugly as Caleb’s gaze snaps back to him. “Oh, good, you’re both awake. Comfy watch, but it’s ever so much more boring without the-” He pulls his hands from his pockets and rocks them back and forth. “Oh, and also the fish folk trying to kill us, those are great.”

“Kingsley?” Caleb demands. Next to him, Essek makes a shocked sound as he presumably recognizes that he cannot move any of his limbs. “What is this?”

“Oh, I can’t rightly say.” Kingsley saunters over and swings himself neatly up onto the mattress, worming between him and Essek to sit cross-legged at the center of the bed. “Wasn’t my idea, at any rate-”

“Jester and Fjord were here too,” Essek interrupts. “Is this - this is a prank, is it not?”

“Hush, you,” Kingsley smirks. “All I’ve got is that I’m to ensure you don’t make your way free with any spellcasting before Fjord and Jester get back. And to that end…”

He breaks the pause with a dramatic flourish of his arms, spreading them wide before laying a palm down lightly on each of their bellies. “I’m told this should do just fine, if the two of you care to demonstrate?”

Caleb connects the dots just a moment too late to throw himself back off the edge of the bed. “Kingsley - wait - ah!”

There was a time when it would take minutes for his mind to link the intruding sensation of touch to anything but wariness. Now, the instant Kingsley’s fingers start scribbling he’s flat on his back, pushing weakly at the offending limb and doing his best not to collapse into hysterical snickering at how much it - it -

“Tickle, tickle, magic man,” Kingsley teases, pupilless eyes aflame with mischief. “No, no, don’t bother fighting it. I’ve heard tales about those ribs of yours, you know. Especially how much you love letting Jester play with them, hm?”

“N-nein, that’s not-” Caleb tries to protest, but he’s already giggling just at the thought - Fjord and Jester are here, and he’s stuck, and Kingsley won’t stop tickling him-

Kingsley’s grin grows another satisfied inch as he turns back to Essek. “And you, stubborn - oh, are you trying to cast something? Is that what that face means?”

Essek is struggling, jaw working and face scrunched as his entire body trembles in time with the claw vibrating its way into his belly. Caleb can practically see the Misty Step brewing on his tongue, just a few short words between him and freedom if only he can get them out without laughing.

Until Jester tracks him down, that is. He hasn’t - they’ve been apart, and then in Aeor, and then working on their big project for the past few weeks, and Caleb hasn’t exactly gotten around to admitting that he might like Essek to - admitting anything, really. Or telling Essek that now that Jester knows he’s ticklish and doesn’t entirely mind it, any attempt to escape will only end in more retribution.

An oversight, in retrospect.

Kingsley purrs, apparently entirely delighted with his victim’s predicament. “Oh, come on now, you can do it! It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good magic show.” Essek shakes his head frantically, lips pressed together even as his cheeks puff with repressed giggles, and Kingsley grins all the wider. “No? Let’s see how long you last when I really start pressing your buttons, then.”

On his side and snickering helplessly, Caleb cannot help but feel a little jealous as he watches Kingsley tug up Essek’s shirt and wait for his eyes to widen in terrible anticipation. “One last chance, then? Cause I think this is really going to tickle.”

Caleb wants him to succeed, really, he does - but watching Essek try as hard as he can to curl in on himself as a single fingertip starts to rub at his navel, squirming and squeezing his eyes shut and finally barking out the first two syllables of his incantation before the third succumbs to high, squeaking laughter holds its own considerable charm. “Ahahaaaa - nooo, hehe! - wh -” He laughs a little more, shoulders shaking, and barely manages to gasp out the words. “Fjord - Jester - where -”

“Couldn’t take it? Oh, you are a ticklish thing,” Kingsley tells him, laughing when Essek’s attempt at protesting collapses into a breathless snort. “You’re wondering where they are? Really, I couldn’t say. Maybe they’ll be gone for hours, and I’ll just have to keep tickling and tickling-”

He’s focused in on Essek now, taking his other hand off Caleb to wiggle it menacingly over a defenseless armpit - Essek takes one look at the new threat and screams. “Caleb!”

Kingsley’s replaced his hand with his tail squeezing around Caleb’s thigh, and it tickles so badly and unexpectedly that Caleb would like to curl up in a ball and do some screaming of his own, but with Essek pleading for his help there’s no other choice.

He pulls himself back onto his elbows and flops into Kingsley’s lap as best he can with his legs chained, reaching blindly for ticklish spots that used to belong to Mollymauk - gasping through a new wave of laughter as the spade of Kingsley’s tail starts to poke at the soft back of his knee, he crowds his fingernails against the small of Kingsley’s back and yelps in preemptive terror as Kingsley starts to laugh and reaches for him instead. “Fjord! Jester!” he shouts. “Help!”

“Gah - oh, fuck, thahat’s - haaaa-” Kingsley flails for a moment, legs kicking out as he tries to shimmy away, but in the next moment his fingers are tickling mercilessly under Caleb’s arms and Caleb can hardly breathe, let alone keep tickling him. He flails to escape, trying to wrap his arms around himself and use them to drag himself away at the same time, but really that just means that Kingsley’s hands are stuck in his armpits now and he’s going to die-

“Right, right, I’ve learned my lesson, no ganging up on our little star,” Kingsley grumbles. Caleb gasps in breathless relief as Kingsley works his hands free - he’s facedown on the mattress, but he hears Essek shout for Fjord and Jester too before dissolving into another fit of giggles. Presumably Kingsley’s putting his tail to good use somewhere.

A hand grabs his shoulder, and he’s rolled over onto his back with his legs untwisting beneath him. He blinks up into Kingsley’s gaze, eyebrows raised in apparent dudgeon. “You, on the other hand,” Kingsley growls, as if his lips weren’t curving up into a fanged smile already, “I am absolutely going to need both hands for what I’m about to do to your ribs.”

“Mist,” Caleb sputters reflexively, and then, louder, “Fjord! Jester! FJORD!”

Kingsley’s eyebrows rise even higher. “Oh, it’s sweet that you think they’re going to help you. Unless - oh, did you want more hands?”

Caleb hardly hears the approaching footsteps over his own anticipatory squeal as he watches Kingsley’s fingers start to wander back down towards his ribs. “Nein! - eheeheh, oh gods, nein-”

But then, suddenly, blessedly, the fingers ghost lightly over his ribs and settle for spidering across his tummy instead. He wheezes in relief - half of it comes out as giggles, his nerves still on high alert, but he fully intends to enjoy breathing while he can.

He flops tiredly back, eyes tracking to the doorway as Fjord and Jester stroll in. “Sorry for the wait,” Fjord says politely. “Jester and I were just finishing up lunch. Because it’s lunchtime.”

“No rush, Captain!” Kingsley practically chirps. “We’re having a wonderful time, aren’t we, boys?”

Fjord looks completely unsurprised to find the two of them in chains. Jester is practically bouncing beside him. Caleb imagines this does not bode well for them.

Essek pipes up from behind him, metal clanking as he tries to move to see around Kingsley. “Did - heh - did we oversleep? I think the shackles are a bit uncalled for-”

“Oh,” Fjord says, low and dangerous. He’s not smiling, not yet, but Caleb can see it in his eyes and that is even worse. “Don’t mind those. It would be a shame to let the two of you leave your bedroom so soon when you haven’t seen it in days and days, wouldn’t it?”

With Kingsley still tickling at his waist, Caleb can’t even begin to coax his stomach muscles to let him sit up as Fjord and Jester cross to the bed and loom over the both of them. Jester claps her hands together, looking dangerously pleased with herself. “Do you like them?” she enthuses. “We got them from a pirate raid, because someone put our other set on a fish person that jumped right back into the ocean.”

“They were getting rusted anyway - I don’t think we collected a single one of those at sea, they’re not even waterproofed.” Fjord grumbles amiably. “These, though-”

He hooks one finger delicately through the chain connecting Caleb’s ankles to the bedpost and tugs, dragging one helpless foot just close enough to scoop up in a waiting hand. “Now these are made for some real seafaring shit. Could hold a body for as long as you want, as long as they aren’t inclined to use any magic tricks.”

Caleb tries to yank his foot back. Fjord just chuckles and leans over to stare him down, his yellow eyes warm and amused. “Isn’t that right, Caleb.”

“No magic tricks,” he gasps out through another fit of giggles as Fjord rubs a warning thumb over his sole. It’s hardly a concession - between that and Kingsley, he hardly has the breath to try anything.

“Good,” Fjord says encouragingly. He puts Caleb’s foot gently down and turns to Essek. “Now you.”

Caleb turns to look at him - from what little of Essek’s body language he can read, he looks wholly confused. “You’re not going to let us go?”

Fjord crosses his arms. “Oh, I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement. Just consider this a friendly reminder that Jester, Kingsley and I are quite capable of following any… magical exits.”

Essek visibly rallies at the mention of magic, quirking an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you had learned how to Teleport.”

“Essek,” Caleb hisses. Fjord shushes him and stalks a single step forward, just close enough to start tickling lightly at the bottom of one purple foot.

Essek’s superior expression lasts all of a moment before his entire body starts flailing to escape the single point of contact. “Ah! No, nohoho, wahahait, I didn’t - ahaha, stop that!”

“You’re right, I can’t Teleport,” Fjord says conversationally. “Good catch, I’d kind of forgotten about that one. Jes, we’ve got some antimagic stuff on the ship, right?”

Jester interrupts herself from making increasingly dramatic faces at Essek to answer. “I think so? You know, just in case if we meet someone icky like you know who.”

“Perfect. Maybe you and Kingsley can keep Essek busy, and I’ll head back to the ship and root around for it?” He looks calmly down at Essek, kicking as frantically as he can with the few inches of leeway the shackles afford him and still completely unable to avoid Fjord’s fingers. “It’ll take a while, mind you.”

Jester perks up, dancing over and reaching for Essek’s other foot. “Yes! Kingsley, did you try his ears yet? They get all flappy and it’s really really-”

“No!” Essek rushes out, squeaking in harried protest when they still don’t stop tickling up his arches. “I - wait,” he pleads. “No! I won’t cast, I won’t!”

Fjord grins. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Alright, Kingsley, can we give them a moment?”

Kingsley removes his hands from both of them rather reluctantly. Fjord claps his shoulder in silent thanks. “Now, would either of you like to explain why we found the two of you half-dead from sleep deprivation?”

“Yeah, you guys, we were so worried!” Jester adds. “You can’t do that when we’re not around to take care of you! You guys haven’t been doing this all year, have you?”

“We’ve only met up in the last few months,” Caleb adds, wincing a little as their eyes turn to him. He sits up slowly, wincing apologetically in the direction of Essek’s wrist shackles. “But no, we have not, we are just working on this project - it is a real ficker, there are so many moving pieces - and we are nearly done, we meant to sleep last night.”

“How many days?” Fjord asks. “One? Two?”

When neither of them answer, sharing a silent look, he hovers a hand threateningly over each of their trapped feet. “Believe me, you really don’t want us to pick a number.”

“Four,” Essek says warily. “But Caleb slept for at least an hour each night, and I don’t need to-”

“Oh, four’s a lot,” Kingsley cuts in. “Did you not learn how to sleep in shifts, not being on the ocean, or do you just enjoy each other’s company that much?”

Essek turns bright red. Caleb’s pretty sure he turns even redder. Even Fjord looks a little embarrassed as Jester and Kingsley collapse into laughter.

Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb can easily guess what this punishment will entail. “Wait a moment,” he says hastily, “we have not even told you about this project-”

“It will be worth it,” Essek adds. “If you would just let us-”

Fjord nods thoughtfully, ignoring their protests. “What do you say, a minute for each hour they should have been sleeping?”

“No-” Caleb starts.

“So that’s sixteen for Essek, and - Caleb’s been napping on and off, sounds like, so we’ll round it down to a neat half hour for him.”

Caleb gapes fearfully. A half hour of tickling, after months and months - he can admit to himself that he missed it a little, but- “That’s too much,” he blurts. “Bitte, you’ll kill me-”

“Really, this is unnecessary,” Essek adds, surprisingly dignified for the way he’s trying helplessly to press his feet against the bed. “Just - we are well rested now, we only need a few hours more to finish the project, there is no need!”

Jester pouts. “Oh, Essek, don’t you want to hang out with us?”

Essek flounders at that, and Caleb can’t help the soft smile that slips out of him. “I would like nothing more,” he assures her, “but being chained up and - and tortured - was not quite on my mind-”

“Well then, you shouldn’t have been so dumb, Essek,” she says cheerily. “Caleb, do you want me or Fjord to tickle you?”

His mouth goes dry. Jester will be - Fjord teases, but he is gentle at least, and Jester is - Jester-

He looks over at Essek, wide-eyed and eyes flicking between all of them in some strange combination of bewilderment and anticipation, and braces himself. “Jester.”

Kingsley laughs, delighted. “Oh, he must really love you,” he tells Essek. “He’s gone and given you the better option by far.”

Essek looks at Caleb, gaze softening. “Really?”

Caleb grimaces back at him, a little embarrassed by himself. “He’s exaggerating. And besides, I am not the one laid flat out here.”

Essek frowns. “Yes, about that.”

“Caleb doesn’t like having his wrists pinned down,” Jester says easily, scrambling up onto the bed and into Caleb’s lap. “Though you should know that already if you two are boning-”

“Jester,” Caleb pleads. Kingsley starts to laugh again.

She beams at him, darting in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Hi, Caleb!”

It’s impossible not to smile back. “Hallo, blueberry.”

He looks around her to see Fjord walk over and settle on Essek’s side of the bed, patting his shoulder companionably. “It’s good to see you two, really.”

Essek just sighs.

Kingsley prods at his belly, earning a hasty yelp. “He’s in a mood, it seems. You want some help with him?”

His stomach grumbles, just then, and Fjord laughs. “Why don’t you get some lunch instead,” he suggests. “We’d have brought something up, but the screaming sounded rather urgent.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Kingsley cocks a loose salute and swings back off the bed with one more tickle under each of their arms, snorting in amusement as Caleb and Essek both squirm and protest. “The others should be arriving soon, I’ll keep a weather eye on the door.”

“Yes, do that,” Fjord says, waiting for him to round the corner and start down the stairs. “That guy is really into sea lingo.”

“Kingsley is great,” Jester enthuses. “Don’t you guys think he looks so much prettier now that he’s all tan?”

She’s not wrong. “Ja, sure.” Caleb says. “By the way, what exactly did the two of you tell him about-” He flushes. “About my ribs?”

“Oh, you know, just some stuff!” Jester says cheerfully. “Most of it is definitely not true by now, probably, since it’s been a super long time since we’ve seen you.”

She puts both of her hands on Caleb’s shoulders and presses, sending him flat on his back and leaning over with a mischievous smile. “Good thing we have a whole half hour to catch up, huh?”

Caleb gulps.

#tickling #critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #kingsley tealeaf #fjord #jester lavorre #chocfic