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thecutepoison · 1 month

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Guys, I'm kinda freaking out... we learned last episode that in the abscence of the previously estipulated successors, the position of principal of aguefort would fall upon the student's council president, right?

I'm going to state the obvious for a second. It's a given that Kipperlily is trying to win the election for more reasons than a personal achievement. She was 100% aware of the gap in the rules, which would mean Aguerfort's joke would be interpreted as the only manifestation of his will. This is the girl who said she's busy studying the student government and takes active joy in finding loopholes in the rules (like acing the year bc the rogue teacher found her).

But what is her angle here? It's a powerful position for sure, but the Rat Grinder's must be after something specific. So I started asking myself what specifically would help them in the plan of raising this Forgotten God from the dead. Aguefort's office must have dangerous items aplenty given the incident with the crown and his general personality. Do they want access to that?

Then it dawned on me.

Lydia Barkrock's body is under the fucking school.

For those who don't remember, in sophomore year it was revealed that Arthur Aguefort cloned Lydia while she was sleeping and placed her soul into a new body, hiding her original one in the depths beneath the school. Crazy ass move bc he did that without warning her, but that's what prevented Kalina from permanently killing Lydia in season 2 - upon the clone's death, she gained consciousness in her original body.

It's only fair to assume that Aguefort made this precaution again after sophomore year for the same reason: Lydia's death would entail Bakur's escape. And if Kipperlily is elected and becomes the principal... it's very likely she would have access to Lydia's original body since it's on school ground. Her vulnerable, unconscious body, the only thing preventing the fiend from escaping.

That's really bad, guys. Bakur knows how to do the divine ressurection ritual, he only failed because he picked the wrong place. But the Rat Grinders do know a place that would work!! Kipperlily specifically asked Jawbone about Yes! and he did tell her that this god was created by Kristen when she died in Prom and went to corn heaven. So, a god was born in corn heaven - that's why the Rat Grinders personally requested Buddy Dawn, a cleric of Helio. Maybe by using him, they can pass through the pearly gates to perform the ritual. After all, Arthur Aguefort did the same thing using Kristen.

Basically, if Lydia dies, all pieces fall in place for them. Together with Bakur, they have all the info necessary to pull this God from the Astral Plane back to existence. They would just have to kill her unconscious body and slay the clone holding her soul. What they lack right now is the access, which solved by gaining the position of principal.

PS: Also, there's a rat society under the school?? Perhaps it's close to where Lydia's body is localized?? Idk Brennan is insane

#maybe im just paranoid #i hope so #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #fh #d20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy theory #kipperlilly copperkettle #lydia barkrock #rat grinders

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memecucker · 2 months

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It’s really crazy how clerical fascism has had a resurgence but there’s still people trying to sound the the bells for atheists even though that’s literally the same thing the fascists who very explicitly hate atheism are doing. Weird, weird, hmm.

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vigilskeep · 7 months

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why the kirkwall chantry is dedicated to hessarian, and why that gives us more than just a cooler name for it with a sexy accusatory nickname for anders in there somewhere: an illustrated guide!

(wait, wait, please remind me who hessarian even is, i hear you ask. hessarian was the tevinter archon who ordered andraste’s execution on the pyre. but struck with guilt at the last minute, he mercifully (i GUESS) killed andraste with a sword rather than let her suffer in the fire. he converted to andrastianism a decade later and took the rest of the imperium with him. he’s really popular in tevinter because, you know, he kind of improves their whole role in the story, and the chantry there likes to think he’s the most important disciple. you may recognise him from being one of the spirits in the urn of sacred ashes gauntlet, from the lore behind the blade of mercy gift for fenris, and the ‘blades of hessarian’ group on the storm coast in inquisition.)

okay, let’s first get the basics down: why do i think the kirkwall chantry is dedicated to hessarian? merrill, our glamorous tour guide to andrastian nonsense, is going to show us why

here’s merrill examing the architecture of the kirkwall chantry. and it’s covered in this guy!

how do we know this guy is hessarian? let’s compare it to some other, canonical andrastion depictions of the latecomer disciple. hessarian is typically depicted with some type of crown or headwear to demonstrate his status in tevinter, robes to denote him as a mage, a long beard probably also symbolic of tevinter culture at the time, and, of course, his blade of mercy. we can see all of these on the figure repeatedly shown in and outside the kirkwall chantry, as well as a certain similarity in the face to the other depictions.

here’s another variant of how the kirkwall chantry depicts the blade of mercy! these are Everywhere, including right over the doors.

and here’s more variants of the same figure inside. he’s carrying some kind of incense burner instead of a sword here, but it’s clearly the same face with the same crown and that classic hessarian beard. note his position of power flanking the enormous andraste figure.

so... why does that matter? isn’t it just a repeated asset?

no, it’s CRAZY actually. and here’s a couple reasons why!

(fascinated by genitivi’s word choice of glitzy mansions, btw.)

firstly, the kirkwall chantry’s dedication to hessarian’s figure is one of the biggest markers that it, along with the gallows and the darkspawn, is a legacy of tevinter. as i said, he’s the favourite there. kirkwall was once emerius under tevinter’s rule, and from the moment we see the weeping twins that welcome you into the city, we’re supposed to remember that the city of chains has not changed all that much. just as emerius’ prisons now incarcerate mages, its industry is now powered by refugees, and the worst parts of its lowtown hold elves probably just as they once did, its magisters’ estates continue to hold the most powerful voices in the city: in this case, that of the chantry and grand cleric elthina. the hessarian statues that demonstrate the chantry’s wealth and power are inarguably either tevinter made or at least made in their style, with such similarity to the statues of slaves that terrorise the gallows courtyard. hightown is no more free of that inheritance than the circle.

secondly, the focus on hessarian can’t be an accident in dragon age 2, a game obsessed with the mercy kill. “without an end, there can be no peace,” says flemeth. somebody has to kill wesley rather than watch him turn into a ghoul. anders has to kill karl. hawke possibly has to kill their other sibling if they catch the taint in the deep roads. varric can kill bartrand when he goes insane. killing the serial killer of elven children rather than letting his madness continue is one of the most universally approved decisions in the game. in her last words, leandra thanks you for ending the mage keeping her alive with twisted necromancy, even if, and especially because, it means the end of her suffering in death. merrill has to kill a possessed keeper marethari. many more can be killed for being “too dangerous” to live, like the blood mage idunna. orsino is slain by hawke after transforming into a monster he would never have wanted to be. there’s probably a dozen more examples i can think of. and of course, in one of the most game-defining decisions hawke has to make, there’s the option to kill anders after the destruction of the kirkwall chantry. merciful is not the word i would use for that, but it has certainly been framed that way. i suppose that’s the same as what i think of hessarian’s actions, isn’t it? (we’re focusing on the andrastian relevance here and not the godawful treatment of mentally ill people in this game, btw, although. yikes.)

“don’t compare yourself to andraste,” says sebastian to anders. he could try telling the game that. hawke gets cast into a lot of roles, but when anders believes they will kill him, he’s casting himself as the martyred andraste, dying to burn rebellion into the face of thedas, and hawke as his hessarian, quick with the merciful blade. i suppose it’s fitting that the kirkwall chantry should be consecrated in the image of its champion. and that the chantry covered in that image gets destroyed moments before hawke makes their choice, if they decide to make a different one. it’s also worth mentioning that meredith is a mimic of andraste, too, with her stolen crown, making anders and meredith obvious combatants for andraste’s legacy in the game. hawke doesn’t get much command of the narrative, but maybe they can at least dodge being anders’ hessarian, if they choose.

idk i think it’s really fucking cool and we should talk about it more, basically! there’s a lot of other angles to take. hessarian is such a fun lore figure to explore. for example, i didn’t even get into the prominence of an andrastian mage figure here, or that the blade of mercy is the symbol of the templar order and was invoked even earlier, in dao, as the “blade of mercy” by traumatised mages who desperately sought to be purified by the templars’ judgement.

also, i think ‘the chantry of hessarian’s mercy’ sounds good. maybe ‘the chantry of our lady’s spilled blood’? that could be sexy. whatever. i’m workshopping it

#long post #kirkwall #anders #i’ve been to the church on spilled blood in st petersburg it’s so extraordinary

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 5 months

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Pairing: Astarion x reader (Tav)

Prompt: Astarion wants to repay you for all the blood you share with him!

Description: There was an undeniable attraction between the two of you; Astarion could taste it on your skin before he took a bite, see it in the way you couldn't meet his eyes when you spoke to him. Perhaps you just needed him to push you in the right direction. He did owe you, after all.

Rating: sfw (ikr)

Word Count: 1869

Content Warnings: fem reader (use of she/her), reader is mentioned to be a cleric of selune but it's just a liddle bit, the first part is dub conish until Astarion Realizes (there's nothing crazy, they only get as far as removing clothing), ask to tag!

Notes: Okay this was originally supposed to be not sfw. right. I had this whole dub con scene planned out and it was gonna be so GOOD but. then I remembered I can't write nsfw (at least I can't do it quickly lol) so I decided to make a version where Astarion makes the right choice instead. I still have plans to write the original (I imagine you can find the part in this where I decided to go another direction lol) because as much as we stan a man who grows. I am also here for a guy who doesn't learn at all and perpetuates his own hurt and grief on to other people (me). Also wow I need to get more screenshots of Astarion...

That night, not too long ago. When your blood singed louder to him than anything had before. When you laid gently before him, not even stirring. Trusting your allies. Trusting him. It was all so intoxicating-- so much so, that he couldn’t help but take a bite.

Perhaps it was luck, perhaps it was because you sensed him, or perhaps because something holy in you sensed something wretched in him. You awoke before Astarion could sink his teeth in you, before he could taste your sweet blood and feel your fleeting pulse under his fingertips.

He had expected a stake in a chest, the loss of this terrible life. What he hadn’t expected was your sympathy-- nor your understanding. No, when you invited him to dine on your blood (with such an adorable look on your face-- it’s a wonder he was the first to taste you), nearly let him kill you because you didn’t know how to tell him to stop-- it was a gift. One he truly hadn’t forgotten. Especially when, sweet as sugar, you invited him to drink of you again.

After all this, you deserved to be payed back! You had given him so much it was only fair Astarion share what he could with you. As it happened, the only currency he had was his body and you were being a little too stubborn to take his kindness.

“Astarion, really--” He had cornered you in your tent. Everyone else was asleep at this time of night, but not you, little adherent of the moon maiden. Your prayers had only just concluded as he invited himself in (a luxury he was sure to abuse now that he could).

“No darling, I insist.” He scoots in closer to you, chasing your warmth. “Let me make it up to you. I want you to feel as good as you make me feel.” His cool breath ghosts upon your skin, and he delights in the way your cheeks flare in the pale light of your candles.

“I’m just not sure about it.” You spare a glance at Astarion and have to quickly look away from him. He’s really putting on the charm tonight and if you continue to look his way, it might work.

“Well why not?” Astarion isn’t having it, cupping your cheek so you look to his face, to his wide red eyes. “I know you’re attracted to me. When you think I’m not looking you can’t keep your eyes off me, but as soon as I look your way…” Astarion takes a moment to appreciate the color on your cheeks, the way you seem to look for an escape a moment before giving in and looking into his eyes.

“It’s not that, trust me, I think you’re very nice to look at…” You close your eyes a moment, trying to gather yourself and your thoughts. You just, didn’t know how to breach the topic. You knew it wasn’t embarrassing, but to have to tell Astarion of all people that you were still a virgin… Well, it but a knot in your stomach.

“Well then what is it?” He urged, hand tracing down your cheek to rest on your neck, to the spot where he had tasted your sweet, sweet blood again and again.

“I’ve just. Never laid with anyone before!” You say the words quickly, closing your eyes lest you see his reaction to the truth.

“Really?” Astarion can’t deny the excitement that floods through him. This merely sweetens the pot for him. To have a precious little cleric share her virgin blood with him (Astarion can merely smirk at how mad that would make Cazador), to have her promise to take down that same wretched master, and now to induce in her in a way no one else ever had. Why, it’s as much a gift for him as it is for her! With that, Astarion cools his expression, tries to chill the desire suddenly running through him.

“Aww, a little cleric of Seluné, having never felt the touch of another?” Astarion can’t help but coo, his words smooth as he teases. Cliche, perhaps, but still enticing. “Saving yourself for someone special?” He laughs again. “Or perhaps saving yourself for me?”

“I didn’t say--” Astarion cuts you off with a soft ‘shh’, gently lowering you down on your bedroll.

“You didn’t have too, darling. I can see in you what you can’t speak aloud.” He moves atop you, leering over you with a devilish look in his eyes. “You want this just as bad as I do, you just do have the words to say it.” With that, he descends upon you, lips meeting in what you can only call a sweet kiss. Sweet enough, in fact, to lure you in; soft and kind for fleeting precious moments before his hunger wins over and you are devoured like the treat you are. He’s overwhelming; hands upon you, peeling away you camp clothing and craving your warmth. He barely parts from your mouth, just enough for a heady intake of you.

“How did I manage to hold back for so long?” His words are spoken with a large, savored sigh. “Just look at you, all needy and obedient under me. A perfect little pet.” His words have your whole body flushing. You could probably easily push him away-- you know you’re stronger than him and if your desperate you’ve a war hammer not even a meter away from where the two of you lay. But you aren’t sure you want to. Aren’t sure if you should.

When Astarion lifts the hem of your shirt, you lift your arms for him, so the fabric can be thrown away. So too does his shirt go. When his hands snake to your pants, and wiggle them past your hips, past your thighs to join you prayer book in the far corner, you do not stop him. Nor do you stop him from removing his own worn and threadbare pants; they join you other clothing in the small confines of your tent, until the two of you are left in your undergarments, looking at one another with wonder and lust and fear and everything that stands between.

You hadn’t noticed you were trembling until Astarion leaned in close to you again, taking your hand in his. “Sorry, I just,” The words tumble out of you before you can think to stop them. “Just, nervous.” You manage to get out, carefully tracing his features for any hint of teasing or remark.

“That’s alright,” Astarion pauses, because he can’t quite remember the last time someone looked as scared as he always felt. He stops and considers a moment if this was something you truly wanted-- but if it wasn’t you wouldn’t have let him get this far in the first place, would you? But then he sighs, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours with his eyes closed.

“This isn’t right, is it?” Astarion pauses a moment, opening his eyes to really take you in. You were still shaking like a leaf, eyes wide and fearful. It was like looking into a mirror for the first time in 200 years. How could he even think to force you into this when it was something he had tried to avoid the entirety of his undead life?

“It’s…” You sigh and shake your head no. “It was never that I didn’t like you, or find you attractive… I’m just not ready. But… I didn’t want to lose the chance to be with you, either.” You admit. “I should have stopped you but…” You pause as Astarion gently pulls off of you.

“No, I should have…” Astarion pauses as well, pushing air out through his nose. “I should have listened to you.” He sits, turned away from you, and you study the intricate runes on his back as you both take a long moment to speak.

“I… should leave.” Astarion moves to get his clothing together, and you sit up straight as well.

“Wait! Just because I don’t want to have sex, doesn’t mean I don’t like your company.” You pull on your own shirt as well, watching as he turns your way with a confused look on his face. “I still like spending time with you.” You admit, face just as pink as when you admitted you were a virgin.

“… You really do, don’t you?” Astarion settles a moment, watching your face as your bright eyes flash his way a moment. “Even if you did try to lie it would be easy to tell…” He retreats to his thoughts a moment, considering his next move. “If I do stay, what would you have us do?” He rests again as you sheepishly pull your pants back on under his watchful gaze.

“Well…” You look to him. “I liked being close to you, actually.” You admit. “It was nice to be held by you.” You seem shy all the sudden, but your request is rather tame compared to what Astarion was more than ready to do to you.

“You just want to cuddle?” Astarion is equal parts surprised and amused. It’s not as if he hadn’t but, well it had never been with anyone he dared to care about. You are different, in that sense. He’s put a lot of chips on you, no doubt… And though he wouldn’t dare to put a title to it, there is a certain sense of affection he held for you. One that, perhaps he can indulge for now. “Well… I suppose there’s no harm in that.”

You light up. “Really?” You smile at him, wide and unabashed. Astarion finds he likes that look much better than the fear you wore mere minutes earlier. It suits you much better. “You don’t mind?”

Astarion scoffs, perhaps to hide his own excitement at the prospect. “I said I pay you back, didn’t I? Who am I to complain how you decide to spend our time together?” He acts nonchalant but you can’t help but keep smiling. “Now, come here.” Astarion scoots in closer to you, holding his arms out and makes a little grabby motion with his hands. You can’t help but giggle but nonetheless comply, moving in closer to him and allowing him to encircle his arms around you. You circle an arm around his neck, and rest one on his chest, sighing in content.

“This is nice.” You hum out, eyes closed as you snuggle closer to him. Astarion can’t help but admire how serene you look.

“You’re still shaking…” He notes, even as he holds you close and tries to follow your lead. Isn’t this what you wanted?

“This time, it really is nerves.” You confirm, opening your eyes to look at his face. “I’m okay though, I promise.” You cuddle in closer to him, once again closing your eyes. It’s both quite alarming and fascinating how much you seem to trust Astarion but… This time, he won’t be that trust to shame.

The two of you would go at this (whatever this was, he noted; everything seemed strange and new) at your pace. Because maybe, just maybe… that was what Astarion needed too.

#Astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #here we go again boys #can you believe he's not even my fav #i just keep having these ideas

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bylertruther · 1 year

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listen. i love el and i think she's a fascinating character. we all know this. i am very clear about this. but like. it really is SO crazy how she really came in and, like... fucked will's life up so fucking bad lmao. i know that it wasn't her fault, and i'm not saying it is, but that's just... such an excruciating writing choice.

it was a choice to have her be the one that opened the gate & essentially sliced will's life into an ugly before and after. it was a choice to have her replace him as mike's number one as soon as she came back into their lives. it was a choice to make her the party's mage and then "change" will from being their wizard to their cleric. it was a choice to make her his sister. it was a choice to purposely have her wear his clothes and have the same bangs. it was a choice to have her ignore him on mike's first day in lenora, despite the fact that he was mike's friend, too, and first. it was a choice to make her oblivious to his feelings.

it was a choice to make them love and genuinely care about each other. it was a choice to make her feel like a monster for everything that'd happened and kept happening. it was a choice to make will not resent her. it was a choice to make him support her enough that he's willing to uphold her lies to mike (!!!) of all people with his inaction.

it was a choice to have him spill his heart out to mike and gift him his painting all in her name. to have him be the one to unknowingly make mike finally say "i love you" to her in response to his confession. to have him realize too late that he's been needlessly pushing mike towards her this whole time.

it was a choice to place will right beside mike, his first ever friend and keeper of his heart, when he told el that his life started just as will's ended.

it was... a bold fucking choice to replace will with el in mike's eyes due to outside influence. it throws them into chaos and disarray because el and will are not interchangeable, and it shows in how...

mike seeks from el everything that will already gives him.

mike readily gives will everything that el begs him for.

el cannot read or understand mike in the innate, wordless, and familiar way that will does.

mike cannot be vulnerable with el, but he opens up to will without even needing to be asked.

mike always heeds, trusts, and listens to will, even when they're arguing or going through a rough patch.

mike always knows just how to mend things with will, because he knows exactly what he needs and he doesn't ever hesitate to do and give it. nor does he need anyone to help him with their conflicts either. he just knows.

el is always left waiting for him to do things for her that he's currently doing for will.

will visibly hates and feels uncomfortable lying to mike, but el can do it consistently with ease.

will is the one that loves mike how he truly wants (and needs) to be loved.

will hasn't been able to move on in full, because he was cast out of his own story and demoted to a supporting role behind the new lead.

el hasn't been able to find out who she really is, because she's been thrust into roles that were never meant for her to begin with. she has always been contorted into the shape of whatever others need or want her to be, but they don't fit because they aren't her.

and, like... there are so many things in this story, which is to say the show as a whole, that would not have happened had the men in el's life not done that. had they allowed her to just be, it's highly likely that the dominoes would've never fallen the way they have.

thankfully, the narrative is set up in such a way that it appears this disorder will rectify itself, but it's still so... upsetting to think about lol.

it all boils down to choices: who gets to make them, what choices they have, why they made those choices, and what happens after. that's all the show is: a series of choices, or a lack thereof, and their consequences with some monster mumbo-jumbo sprinkled on top.

#byler #they were so insane for that and the girlies just ate that shit right up!!!!!#like. wow. they literally did not have to fucking do any of that and yet. they did. they did!!!!!!!!!!!! soap opera moment.#will is so crazy insanely strong and good and full of love and hope because if it was me?! girl. god. i am not ur strongest soldier #i would be the most bitter resentful bitch alive srry . i kno she saved their lives n the world but she was also used to bring tht all upon #them and especially will. like. and then she became his sister and saved his life and became his friend and dated the love of his life #that he's known and has been the closest to literally since forever and she's a good person so it's not like he can even hate her. he can't #even if he wanted to even if he tried to because she's just like him in a way and it's just like . [clenches fist]#this trio is jus so juicy....#mine

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jtl-fics · 24 days

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In honor of April Fools day I will talk a bit about an AU with my favorite fool - (Redacted) Smith that I will probably never write fully but have thought about a bunch of scenes for.

I call it 2 Fluent Freshmen.

Due to a clerical error at both the school and during the local government's push to digitize their documents Smith is noted down as being 2 years older than he actually is and (perhaps a clerical error or maybe no teacher can say if they've had him in class or not) Smith also has enough credits to graduate. Gran has passed away early and there's nothing for him in Washington other than more anxiety.

Wymack & Dan come to Smith when he is 16 and Smith takes the chance to escape from his family IMMEDIATELY. Sure the Foxes are the worst team and sure there's some drama going on with Kevin Day having joined them after his injury but a full ride scholarship is a full ride scholarship!

Smith is rooming with 2 upperclassmen and his only other fellow freshman - Neil Josten. He is not hiding the fact that he can speak Russian, he is hiding the fact that he is 16. Smith ends up pretty close to Seth and Allison due to sharing a dorm / position respectively and just doing his best not to get to close to crazy Andrew Minyard. He does get a bit close with Neil but it's not something he's trying to do.

He's trying to keep his head down and get through the year.

It's a little hard when he is sat on the couch with the Kathy Ferdinand show. It's a lot harder when Riko Moriyama shows up and doesn't realize he's there and just...sits in Smith's lap?? Smith remains as blank faced as ever and what the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT HE FUCKED UP?

Do you know how hard it is to intimidate someone when you're sitting in the lap of some dude? The answer is VERY. Kevin can't take him seriously at all, especially after Smith made a comment that Riko's ass was bony.

Riko goes after them the same but Smith doesn't really get that his anger is at Kevin. "Hey, I'm sorry I called your butt bony on national television. That was rude of me. You should try some squats though." and like what the fuck is Riko supposed to say in the face of some dude genuinely apologizing to him.

It buys enough time that no one is grabbed or slammed.

Seth and Allison drag him out to the bar that night and after a few minutes sitting with Allison Smith realizes that he actually does have to pee and oh god someone's trying to assault Seth! Smith calls upon the powers of Gracie Hart and Seth has a black eye and a concussion but he graduates.

Neil wants Smith to come with him to the Thanksgiving because Neil has latched on a bit. Smith ends up going and also ends up going upstairs to go to the bathroom because oh god he cannot handle Nicky's parents hearing him take an anxiety shit. He's making his way to the end of the hall and sees a penny on the ground so he bends over to grab it.

And Drake Spears is unbalanced from missing his swing and falls right out the open window to the ground below where he breaks his neck. Naturally, Andrew is watching this scene unfold from the stairs and just starts to laugh his ass off. Smith turns around after flipping the penny over (it was tails side up and therefore not lucky) unaware of what has happened.

Smith asks if Andrew wants to use the bathroom. Andrew insists that Smith goes on ahead. The Hemmicks keep asking if they saw anyone upstairs and Smith has no idea what they're talking about, Andrew does but plays dumb out of spite. A day later it's wild that Nicky's parents got arrested. Like they seemed so normal, how did they kill someone and dump him in the side garden??

The Winter Banquet happens and well...it's dark. It's dark and Neil has brown hair and brown eyes and Smith has brown hair and brown eyes. Riko is not the best at judging heights so he calls Smith to threaten him and tell him that he's joining the Ravens for a Winter Break training camp. Jean is doing the most anyone has ever done not to laugh right now.

Riko only realizes his mistake when he's finished threatening Smith with his father and Smith ruins it. Smith is elated to have somewhere to stay over winter break. He can't mention he has nowhere to go so he'd thought he'd spend the break homeless. Now here comes Riko Moriyama inviting him to a camp where room and board will be provided?

What a nice guy. To thank him Smith compliments the gains he's noticed on Riko's ass. "The squats are really helping you, or are you doing something else?" he asks.

What the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT THAT HE FUCKED UP? Tell Smith that he's been doing squats and leg lifts before asking that he hand the tickets back and go get Neil???

Fuck that.

He'll just turn Smith against the Foxes and-

Well Riko kept talking about Smith's dead dad and so Smith may have a slight misunderstanding about the full scope of this training camp. He may think that there is some sort of seance element to it at this point and he's kind of excited at the idea of talking to his dad. "I've never spoken to a dead man before, this will be fun." and it's delivered flatly with no expression.

Riko starts to wonder if maybe Smith is the Butcher's son? Did the Butcher have two sons? He's sweating all the sudden.

It does not help that Smith brings a Ouija board to camp or that his dad was a legit Butcher before he died so Riko's tentative questioning only sends him further into an anxious mess about if Nathan had twins and Riko, due to being kept away from the family business, might just not be aware of it?

Smith has a nice Christmas break.

The last scene I've got dinging around in the noggin is in Binghamton. Smith has been left behind at many a stadium at this point. There's a solid and fast rule.

Neil cannot get on the bus without Smith. They are buddies. This is the buddy system. So when the riot starts and Neil seems to be getting pulled away in the crowd?

Well Smith grabs his hand and pulls him towards the bus, "Buddy system."

The bus starts and they're on their way shortly after. Neil's an anxious wreck but that next morning he wakes up to the news that the Butcher of Baltimore died in an FBI raid the night before as well as his men.

Smith watches the news with Neil, "Wow, that's scary." as he sips some orange juice.

#2 Fluent Freshmen AU #AFTG AU #AFTG Fic #Fluent Freshman AU #Neil Josten #(Redacted) Smith #Andrew Minyard

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aldryrththerainbowheart · 3 months

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Another BG3 companions appreciation post, this time after the tiefling party. (Updated ver.)

When I say I love all the companions what I mean is I love all their traits, even the negative ones.

I love Gale who flexed big words and magical knowledge and his connections to Mystra since day one. Call me crazy but without knowing the background I AM impressed by his achievements and knowledge. Of course, his ambition led him too close to the sun, and like the fabled Icarus, he fell. But he's trying to make amends. He's completely surrended to the idea of finding an empty lonely spot for himself and dying alone in excruciating pain and filled with regret. Not even once did it cross his mind that Tav or others would want to continue journeying with him after he confesses about the orb. The moment he told me about his cat I stared at the screen in disbelief because I knew I'm suck his di-

I love Lae'zel who could've killed me right away on the Nautiloid but instead shared all the information with me, helped me fight my way through, tolerated everyone else, and from what I've seen from others Githyanki is actually really nice. She never lets Shadowheart's sneers get to her, offers Gale to teach him to fight, and answers all questions Wyll asks her about her culture. I was genuinely surprised when she not only complied when I ordered her around during the interrogation of Zorru or the confrontation of the Githyanki patrol but also thanked me for stepping in. Her honest, no-nonsense attitude is so refreshing in the story where everyone has secrets and you always know only half of the information if any at all. Everyone in the camp is hiding something from Tav except her. Say what you want but with Lae'zel, what you see is what you get and I really, really like that.

I love Shadowheart because she tries to be a bad guy but that just isn't her. Despite her church's teachings and her secretive and prickly attitude. At the end of the day, she's just a lonely, scared, and lost young woman who was put on a dangerous mission and is expected to deal with it alone. I don't know much about her yet but it's clear from her talks about Sune and various scriptures I found in the game about Dark Justiciars and clerics of Shar... and in all those stories, when they finally got the recognition of their goddess or they've completed their task, all that awaited them was emptiness... That's no way to live for Shadowheart. I can see the small glimpses, just like in Lae'zel, of desire, curiosity and so much want. She was forced to live in a place that forbade any individuality or anything except blind obedience. To just be a pawn for the big guy. But both she and Lae'zel could be so much more than that. Drinking up everything the world has to offer. I really wish that for them.

I love Wyll because...it's Wyll?!? I cannot stress enough how much I am fond of characters that are just good, kind, and selfless. I never get tired of heroic characters who honestly are in it just for helping people. Wyll was living a life of leisure and could be the prodigal son for the rest of his life. Instead, he picked up his sword, donned his stupid superhero name, and went on saving lives. He even went as far as making a deal with the devil just so he could be the hero of the people, not because he enjoyed the fame but because of his ever-present need for charity. He doesn't let anything, not even the tadpole or Mizora get in his way. He could've been one of those Martyrs who blindly follow the black-and-white definition of good and bad, killing Karlach right away. But he spared her, even if all it gained him was punishment. There's something so pure about him in the way he just wants to believe. I'm pretty sure he saw his fair share of fucked up shit while adventuring but he still wants to uphold these ideals of heroism. The boyish chuckle when I insisted that I wanted to dance with him... I'm not smiling like an idiot you do!

I love Astarion not for being the seductive vampire fantasy I thought him to be, but for the absolute chaos gremlin menace he truly is. He's the orange cat, the possum screaming at you from a garbage can, the raccoon hugging a chewed piece of moldy bread. His snark is impeccable, and his over-the-top mannerisms never fail to make me grin like a maniac. I'm strictly good-aligned but I watch him run around causing Situations and I'm like "Yes, you do that sweetheart. You deserve it." There are already many long detailed posts that describe shit he's been through so I'll only say this. I never pitied him or felt sorry for him. I admire him. Sure his path to recovery is nothing short of a mess. He hasn't had much chance at a good ending. But he took every fight kicking and screaming, not willing to give up and he has my respect for that. Because sometimes hope comes in the form of spite and anger. I love watching him rediscover himself at all points in life. I love Astarion the way he is (little shit) while simultaneously believing he can get better, and if that's wrong I don't wanna be right.

Ugh. I'll edit this later and other companions, I'm too tired now.

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littlejuicebox · 3 months

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Midnight Chimes 4 / Ringleader

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader Warlock.

Word Count: 2,415

Summary/Setting: You and Astarion have met before, though you think it meant more to you than it did to him. You are an apothecary shop owner that has recently gained some mysterious Warlock powers; Astarion is, in your eyes, a rake that you wouldn’t trust as far as you can throw him. You two run into one another again after the nautiloid crash.

Preview:

It hadn’t really been you that found the three new party members, after all. It had been your patron. The blasted thing seemed to alternate between completely ignoring you and positively strong arming you into submission. And it seemed unfortunately hellbent on collecting every straggler along the way of this little adventure. Though you supposed the cleric, the githyanki, and the Blade would likely prove to be more useful additions than the pale elf sitting nearby. But how could you explain the connection to the celestial being to Gale or anyone else if you did not truly understand the connection yourself? How could you explain they were putting their trust in the wrong person for the job? Gods, you needed to get back to Baldur’s Gate and head to Sorcerous Sundries. Surely they would have some information about this unwilling bond. And speaking of unwilling bonds…

Warnings: eventual smut and gore 18+ / in game spoilers / angst, trauma, fluff

A/N: Finally feeling (almost) 100% back to my normal, healthy self! Thank you for the good vibes and well wishes! <3

The warlock, the wizard, and the rogue.

This little group started off with the makings of some ridiculous fairytale your parents would have read to you before bed.

Though, despite your parents wishes, you hadn’t really been a child interested in fairytales and make believe. Your penchant for pragmatics had developed early on, and before long mama and papa had all but given up on their dreams of a perfect princess daughter. In her place stood some sort of mad scientist… at least in their eyes.

You hadn’t actually been mad. Not then, at least. Though you were starting to worry that between the parasite and your patron, you might truly be going crazy now. No doubt the two were at war, trying to determine who would wrestle ultimate control of your mind.

Should you simply choose between the lesser of two evils, when your fate already feels sealed as it is?

Gale and Astarion had blindly followed your lead the first day, and remained silent every time you decided to stop and change course, prodded in another direction by the celestial being playing with your psyche. This abrupt switch in traveling plans led you all to Lae’zel, where you convinced the tieflings to let her go, and Shadowheart, as she desperately tried to break open the door of some abandoned ruins.

Astarion had simply picked the lock of the ruins, earning him some clout among the others for his skill set and further suspicion from you. After all, why exactly did a man like Astarion have any need for a skill like that?

Subsequently, the five of you explored the dank, dilapidated building. After downing a handful of humanoids and some reanimated corpses, the group happened upon a strange, skeletal being named Withers. He said he would see you again soon.

After a relatively restless night in camp, you all happened upon the Grove on the second day of exploration. Some druid named Halsin is missing, though it turns out he may be the answer to your little predicament, Nettie tried to poison you (stupid, really, to try to poison an apothecary with one of the most basic tricks in the book), you saved a little tiefling thief from death, and then you met Wyll… all in a couple of hours.

The Blade of Frontiers is looking for some devil he’s supposed to kill; he’s also got a tadpole in his head, and like Gale, seems in relatively good spirits for such a grim situation. Those two seem suspiciously well-adjusted.

The entire journey thus far had only been two days long and exceedingly… well, odd.

It was certainly a much different experience from your day to day of brewing potions and tending the shop. You wanted nothing more than to return to the comforts of city life. But instead, you were forced to be the unwilling ringleader of this circus, despite your protests on the matter.

You are discussing your concerns about leadership with Gale as the group takes a short rest not far from the Grove. Wyll is gathering the last of his supplies and will meet up with all of you in mere moments.

“Oh, but you’re doing a fantastic job, Demetria!” Gale exclaims, somehow unfailingly supportive of a woman he barely knew.

Oh, how you wished to trust anyone half as much.

“You have such remarkable intuition. We wouldn’t have found Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Wyll, or all this great loot without you!” He continues, before gesturing to a handful of gold and scrolls while positively beaming.

The wizard clasps a friendly hand on your back and then scans the surrounding area. He smiles at you once more, “Now I plan to make myself useful and harvest some flora! If you plan to make use of that newly procured cauldron, I best give you materials to work with.”

You smile softly and nod at the wizard before he disappears into the shrubbery. Brewing potions was easy; you could craft all the basic ones by memory alone. But leading a group of people through the wilds based on some sort of fabled intuition and instinct? You weren’t so sure about that.

And it seemed unfortunately hellbent on collecting every straggler along the way of this little adventure. Though you supposed the cleric, the githyanki, and the Blade would likely prove to be more useful additions than the pale elf sitting nearby.

But how could you explain the connection to the celestial being to Gale or anyone else if you did not truly understand the connection yourself? How could you explain they were putting their trust in the wrong person for the job?

Gods, you needed to get back to Baldur’s Gate and head to Sorcerous Sundries. Surely they would have some information about this unwilling bond. And speaking of unwilling bonds…

Astarion is perched on a fallen log, basking in the midday sun’s rays. He’s the picture of relaxation, as if this entire sordid affair is a holiday away from Baldur’s Gate.

Sure, the pale elf had been helpful in battle, and he seemed to have a strange knack for opening locks, but as far as participating in camp efforts went, he certainly left a lot to be desired. You should have guessed as much. With the princely attitude and haughty confidence, it was likely he was merely another spoiled, rich elf. He reminded you of…

Nevermind.

You look to Shadowheart, hoping to pursue a conversation with the woman, but she is a few feet away, resting on her knees in prayer. Lae’zel is also preoccupied as she meticulously sharpens her already deathly blade. You’ve spent almost all day trying to intentionally avoid Astarion and keep any conversation with him to a minimum. But as everyone else seems busy doing their own thing, you’re left with no choice but to take a few minutes of reprieve near the rogue.

You sigh and nestle yourself on the ground, unwilling to take the empty spot on the log next to Astarion; sitting like an animal in the dirt seemed the better option for your pride. As you lean back to stretch your aching muscles, the warm country breeze picks up, swirling around the elf’s silver curls. You are sitting downwind from the rogue, and the gust pushes a whiff of bergamot and rosemary in your direction.

You can’t help it. The fragrance angers you. Astarion hadn’t even written to you once, even to send a simple rejection or at least compliment your sample. He’d wasted your time on your last few hours of vacation three years ago. All for what, exactly?

He hadn’t even gotten to bed you, which had surely been his goal, in the end.

You glare at him, in all his world-endingly beautiful privilege, as he simply lounges about in the sun as if nothing is wrong.

“It seems you liked my perfume sample enough to procure a rip off of it, but not enough to write.” You state coolly, watching the pale elf as he snaps his eyes open to study you. You notice him thinking, no doubt calculating some sort of smooth response.

“You can save the piss-poor excuses, Astarion.” You sigh, now reaching into your pack, trying to find the small vial of perfume oil you’d had inside your robes when that ship snatched you up. You open the vial and take a deep breath, basking in the comfort of familiarity.

It smelled like home. Like your quaint little townhome, in Waterdeep. Too bad scents can’t transport you back in time… at least not literally.

There are a few beats of silence as Astarion watches you.

“I do apologize for not recognizing you before, and for not writing…” He begins, slowly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal, “I lost your card. I have a tendency to be… forgetful. And I lose things a lot. But, I did quite like the scent, as you can tell.”

You nod, acknowledging the apology but not willing to acquiesce any further. You cannot decipher if Astarion’s words are the truth or if they are simply honeyed lines meant to subdue you. Your pinky finger presses against the perfume bottle’s rim and you rub a bit of the fragranced liquid behind your ears.

The wind shifts, blowing your thick, dark hair forward around your face, obscuring your vision. You cap the small vial and then quickly tie your hair back. When you are able to see again, Astarion is almost gawking at you, scarlet eyes blown wide in surprise.

He shifts and recovers quickly, jerking his gaze away and running a hand through his windswept curls. When he speaks, his voice has a manufactured, airy nonchalance to it, “It is quite windy out here, isn’t it?”

You don’t respond, and he turns to face you once again. His jaw tenses for a moment, and then he leans back, assessing you once more. He tries another tactic.

“That is… another lovely scent that you’re wearing.” He murmurs, and this time, the genuine, hesitant intrigue in his voice catches you off guard.

“Thank you,” You begin, and despite yourself, you are flattered by his statement. You truly love when others notice and compliment the artistry of your craft. You shrug and offer the vial to Astarion. Perhaps a small olive branch is due, if the two of you are stuck tethered together for who knows how long.

The rogue takes the bottle and inhales the fragrance, and then he emits a noise that sounds something like a soft moan or groan. It’s a deep, uninhibited sound from the back of his throat, almost as if he’s absolutely losing himself in the scent. When he focuses on you again, there’s a relaxed look in his eyes paired with a soft, unguarded smile. It reminds you of the way he looked at you in your parent’s tavern.

“Delicious…” He murmurs, his tone dropping into that salacious one he’d used on you at the tavern all those years ago, when asking if you planned to murder someone with poisons. Something about the way he said the word while staring directly into your eyes, his pupils blown from the fragrance he’d just inhaled, made your face grow hot.

You aren’t interested in a rake, and you won’t be fooled again, you remind yourself. No matter how beautiful the bastard truly is.

You extend your hand out, motioning for the vial and he obliges with a disappointed tut.

“It’s a combination of lavender, sage, and vanilla.” You explain, tucking the precious vial back into your pack.

“And what else? There’s something else, isn’t there? It’s the same thing that was in the sample you gave me.” He responds, eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

You laugh in genuine surprise, “Good nose. Are you trying to steal my recipe so that when you return to Baldur’s Gate, you can have an exact duplication instead of the lesser version you have now, Astarion?”

You are partly joking, partly serious.

The elf shakes his head, brows crinkling together in absent thought, “No… merely curious, I suppose. I’ve never smelt anything quite like your concoctions. I have to admit the memory of the scent from that night has… stayed with me. I would have written to you to tell you as much, if I could have. If I hadn’t… lost your card.”

You squint your eyes. There is something genuine in Astarion’s statement, despite the strange excuse about losing the card. Sure, he may have truly lost it. But then, he could have simply returned to the Drunken Dragon and asked your cousin for your address.

The next time you visited your family on holiday, after your conversation with the rake, your cousin indicated the elf hadn’t been by since that night. When you asked about Astarion every year, feigning nonchalance, your family always indicated he hadn’t been seen.

It was almost as if he were avoiding the Drunken Dragon altogether for those three years.

You’d ultimately assumed he moved away… or perhaps died, murdered by one of his jealous lovers.

“It’s dragonsblood… just a drop.” You admit, eyeing the silver-haired elf with suspicious curiosity.

A sudden bark of laughter escapes Astarion’s lips. And then his head tips back and he positively cackles in a mixture of amusement and delight. He seems to find this information exceptionally hilarious. Your brows stitch together in confusion as you watch the rogue chortle.

Sure, it was an unusual additive. But it wasn’t exactly hilarious, was it?

“Dragonsblood!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together in front of him as his eyes crinkle with mirth, “How… unique. You are quite the artist, Demetria.”

You feel the flush rise in your cheeks at the compliment while you murmur another thank you. Surely he’s flattering you, trying to ingratiate himself and hoping you’ll forgive his slight against you, isn’t he?

Astarion’s eyes flit between yours now, and he hums in thought, “You look… different. From my memory at the tavern.”

“Really? Well you didn’t actually remember me at all until the parasite helped you, so I’m not quite sure how reliable your memory of me is. You look the same as I remember.” You deadpan, instantly trying to deflect from his observation.

You know what he means… the ring hadn’t just affected your mind. It has permanently altered the color of your eyes into a strange purple, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. But you aren’t ready to share anything about your patron or the damn ring with anyone else just yet.

Astarion cocks his head, and he is about to say something more, but then Gale is bursting back through the brush. His eyes are wide with apprehension as he looks between you and the rogue. The concerned expression on your otherwise affable campmate causes everyone in the vicinity to quickly rise to their feet.

Gale grimaces as he addresses his new traveling companions with some level of unease, “I think you all might want to see this.”

And then he disappears back into the brush without another word. Part of you thinks you shouldn’t follow him, but you do anyway. After all, how could this possibly get stranger than it already is?

Your patron is laughing again. Poor little apothecary, you have no idea.

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passionesolja · 2 months

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It’s so crazy to me that Seelah and Sosiel from Pathfinder are given more equal treatment in a cast of 12 optional companions than Wyll is in a smaller cast. Wrath of the Righteous isn’t as companion storyline heavy but I never got the impression that they were forgotten by the game. Seelah’s pretty much with you from the start and Sosiel’s mission is literally the closest to the Act 1 Garrison Hub. The game is doing everything but forcing you to go over there. Seelah’s questline hub is close to Sosiel’s so you can do both effortless, propelling their storyline. Location wise, it isn’t really like that with the other companions. You have to go on a voyage-and-a-half for Daeran’s quest and can miss it if you don’t speak to the right mf. Both of their quests are way more involved.

I hate to drag BG3, but Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous didn’t snub it’s PoC cast. Paladins and Clerics are heavy hitters in Pathfinder, like Seelah as a Paladin and Sosiel as a cleric are both way more useful than Daeran’s low HP, no customizable spellslots having ass. I love him but he’s useless once I get Sosiel in the party. Hell, Seelah gets her unique questline sword within the first hour or so of the game. Seelah be carrying the party in the beginning because she has a cold iron sword so if you want those Dretches gone, she’s the best way to go.

I don’t think that Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous is the most perfect game ever (granted it’s more varied cast wise), but I think that WOTR passively and actively encourages you to have Seelah and Sosiel in your party and involves them in the story wayyy more than Wyll is in BG3. Hell, Seelah is your first companion. Even as far as settings go, Sosiel and Seelah’s stories are more intertwined with the main quest. They’re both in the Crusade for various reasons. WOTR wouldn’t be the same without Seelah and Sosiel. Meanwhile, BG3 is virtually the same without Wyll when he should be the most focused on companion. Dawg, his daddy is Duke of Baldur’s Gate, he should be Jehaira and Khalid BG1 levels of important to the game. If any companion should be the most vocal and active, it’s Wyll. Estranged or not, he has the highest stakes because his city is under threat.

The only excuse for the severe underuse of a character like Wyll Ravengard is racism. His father is the Duke of Baldur’s Gate, he should have the most dialogue, most content, and most screentime of any character. Wyll as a character is incredibly interesting and has a lot of potential, but they’d rather give a mf like Halsin more attention.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #wyll #baldur's gate iii #bg3 meta #Larian #larian critical #bg3 critical #pathfinder #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #sosiel #seelah #pf wotr #pathfinder wotr

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jaypea00101010 · 5 months

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Expanded Optional Class Features!

Over my time playing 5e there's a few small tweaks I've wanted to make to the core classes, below are just a few of the tweaks I personally use at my tables!

Below are optional class features for Barbarians, Clerics, Monks, Paladins, Rangers and Warlocks, with reasoning given for them all

Barbarian

Ancestral Rage

Rage stops barbarians casting spells, but that leaves races that get spells a little high and dry, not able to use their spells in most fights, this is intended to fix that. Nothing super crazy, but tiefling barbarians will have just a little more fun.

Unending Rage

The latest barbarian playtests have let barbarians use bonus actions to keep raging, and let them rage for 10 minutes. While I think this doesn't really work thematically, it made me realise Rage probably shouldn't be as limited either. Will this come up much, not really, but it's a little less tracking and it's more thematic.

Unshakeable Rage

Force damage is becoming a lot more common on higher CR monsters, so having resistance to it for barbarians is pretty important. It's a fix to the main problem I have with barbarians, like I spoke about in THIS tumblr post.

Cleric

Channel Divinity: Spirit Guardians

Once again this is a fix to my biggest problem with the class, I don't really think turn undead is thematic for all clerics, but I think the spirit guardians spell both is pretty thematic for all clerics (or can easily be reflavoured to be), and is such a must pick for the class, it should just be built in, so this does! Scales with your proficiency bonus so it'll stay useful at all levels, and frees up your third level slots for something else

Monk

Overflowing Ki

Monks need more ki points, and while this might look like it's giving them less at first, the recharge on this is a lot better, you might have less ki points overall, but you'll have all of them for all every combat

Perfect Flow

Similarly to overflowing ki, monks deserve a better capstone, so this is it, a constant flow of ki points, so you can always do what you need in a fight

Paladin

Swear Your Oath

Again a fix to my biggest problem with paladins. The source of sorcerers power is their subclass, so they get it at level 1, same with clerics and warlocks, so why not paladins? This feature, while not doing anything mechanical, helps the thematics of paladins immensely

Ranger

Mark Foe

Potentially the first part of a full ranger rework, rangers need a better feature than Favoured Enemy, and this is it. In an ideal world rangers would have a core class feature like this that subclasses could build off...... maybe....

Survivalist's Spellcasting

Another fix, rangers are the masters of the wilderness, they should be able to prepare for any situation.... but no, they're known casters, well no longer

Warlock

Eldritch Blast

The final fix I've spoken about before, it's such a must-have, that it just needs to be a class feature. Plus having it be a class feature means it doesn't scale with multiclassing which helps a lot (still not quite enough to stop hexblades, but I've got another fix there

Cunning Contract

Warlocks were int based in the D&DNext playtests, and they still absolutely make sense to be, so this just does that!

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