#halfling come home

[sexyapostate]

Auntie Ethel's Race-Specific Vicious Mockeries

Because of this post by rpgchoices, I figured I'd compile all the other Vicious Mockery lines Auntiel Ethel can hit the player with. These don't include the origin companion specific ones. You can find those in the linked post.

DROW ELF

Filthy underscum!

Just another of Lolth's pretty harlots.

Slaver. Sadist. How dare you judge me?

DROW ELF (MALE)

Bare your throat, spider-bait.

Kneel, boy. Just like the matriarchs taught you to.

Bow to your betters, boy.

HALF-ELF DROW

Even the Underdark doesn't want you, half-breed.

Surprised you show yourself in public, abomination.

A half-drow? How grotesque.

DWARF

More beard than brains, the lot of you.

Bet you'd trade your friends for a trinket or two, gold-eater!

I'll squeeze that stone heart until it bleeds, dwarf.

DUERGAR DWARF

Bow your head, slave. You remember how, don't you?

Grey and useless as a stone comb.

Need a new master, illithid lover?

DRAGONBORN

Aww, where's your clan? Bet they'd exile you for that brainworm in a blink.

Bet that honour of yours shatters easy as your scales.

You foul-breathed little lizard!

GNOME

Disgusting burrow rat.

Bet your clan's happy you're gone!

Try laughing after I rip your throat out, gnome.

ELF 

Fancy yourself immortal? We'll see how long that lasts.

I'll show you what a true fey does, dearie.

Elves are so pretty. Pretty worthless!

HALF-ELF

I wonder which parent regrets you more, half-breed.

How revolting. Another thin-blooded mongrel. Half-elf. Half-human. All useless.

HUMAN

Another human rat infesting Faerûn.

A human! So desperate to be special.

Pity. That tadpole actually made you interesting.

HALFLING

No flabby dwarf's a threat to me.

Come closer, little softie. You'll be tender.

A tiny, sweet morsel. Just for me.

HALF-ORC

Come now, tusks-for-brains! Doesn't this make you angry?

All that bloodlust. A little tap, and I bet you won't know friend from foe!

Lumbering half-orc. Twice as ugly as your parents combined!

TIEFLING

I'll burn you alive and everyone will celebrate.

You're everyone's punching bag and no one's favourite.

I see the Hells spit out another tragic little tiefling.

These were included in the dialogue document and the races listed are exactly what's in the dialogue's trigger flags.

PLANAR (githyanki, warforged)

What kind of botched portal brought something like you here?

Are you lost, little one? Maybe your soul will make it back home.

I'll banish you for good, outsider!

RARE (aasimar, dragonborn, firbolg, genasi, githyanki, half-drow, half-orc, tiefling, triton, warforged, yuan-ti pureblood)

I'm one step closer to wiping your kind off Faerûn for good!

Freakish thing. I bet everyone stares when you walk by.

Not a lot like you. You'll be my prettiest trophy.

BEASTIAL (aarakocra, kenku, lizardfolk, tabaxi, tortle)

Think you're a person because you're walking on two feet? Adorable.

Can't wait to throw a collar on your neck and make you my familiar.

I'll tan your hide, beast!

BONUS: MINSC? FOR SOME REASON? I don't know why there seem to be unlabeled Minsc-specific Vicious Mockeries. Maybe Ethel played BG1/2 and just really hates him.

How quaint! The hamster has a pet.

Only evil here is what's inside you, ranger.

Go rub your rat, soft-skull.

[lqveharrington]

Feelings Mutual | C.G.

summary: Your forced to hangout with Cardan at the High King’s birthday celebration. Turns out, you both make stupid decisions when drunk. And what’s the fine line between hatred and love between two being who can’t lie anyway?

pairing: Cardan Greenbriar x half fae!fem!reader

includes: drunk Cardan, drunk reader, cursing, making out, suggestiveness, no use of Y/N, barely proofread (i think that’s it)

a/n: i’m on a reading spree, and working on my projects, so this should help get me out of a huge writing slump.

In Faerie, it was uncommon for a half fae, half human being to be a princess in the court. Your father — the King of one of the many lands — wed a human woman, causing you to become the land’s princess. Of course many of the court thought that you were lesser than them; For such a creation should never hold that high of a status.

Ever since you were younger, you often attended lessons with the High King’s youngest child. At first, you sought out to befriend him and his group of friends. But you soon found out that they loathed you. Because how could a halfling ever be a worthy princess?

So you gave up trying to befriend them. You let the group taunt you for not being full fae, but what was the worst thing they could do? You still were a daughter of a very powerful king. The very king that was the closest with the High King himself.

You and your family were constantly invited to all their gatherings, and this one wasn’t an exception. It was the High King’s birthday, which meant all of Faerie was invited to Elfhame palace to celebrate such a day. The only issue with that meant your father and mother urged you to talk to Cardan and his group.

“Mother, they don’t like me.” You wring your hands together, fidgeting with your silver jewelry.

She clicked her tongue, “Nonsense. Prince Balekin spoke of how much Cardan talks about you when he comes home from your lessons.”

“Wait what?” Your eyes widen at her in disbelief. “Mother, I’m sure they’re words of hate.”

“Is it because you don’t like your dress? Are you afraid they’ll hate it?” She tugged you to stand in front of herself. “You look gorgeous, angel.”

You purse your lips at her compliment. You truly loved the dress. It was a beautiful sage color that complimented your skin tone completely, and the corset really did wonders. There were gorgeous lace details of butterflies that were a shade darker, with a slit running down one side of the dress. It was beautiful, but you feared that it was much too modern for Faerie, causing your thoughts to wander to how Cardan’s friends would insult it.

“No, I love the dress, mother.” You give her a tight lipped smile, squeeze her hands. “If you truly wish for me to find Cardan, I’ll go and be friendly so you and father can enjoy your time here.”

“Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead and a real smile etched its way onto your face.

“Be safe, alright?” Your father squeezed your shoulder before leaning down to whisper words your mother couldn’t hear. “If trouble comes, you know what I’ve taught you. You have your dagger?”

Your lips twitch in excitement, “Of course.”

“Then you’re all set then, kiddo.” He gave you one last look before resting an arm around your mother’s waist. “I’ll come find you when it’s time for us to depart.”

You nod before taking a small bow. You watched them leave and make their way to the throne, immediately engaging with the High King and Queen. They seemed happy, which made you glad that they accepted your mother as their own. Shaking your head, you took a deep breath and blew out the air in one go. Carefully, you made your way over to Cardan. Luckily, he was on his own for once.

“Cardan.” You nod in his direction, watching his dark eyes with flecks of gold suddenly gazing into yours. Without fail, his eyes roam over your body, tail whipping behind himself after gaining someone’s attention.

“Princess! Don’t you look absolutely captivating tonight.” He slurred, red wine dripping out of his glass. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

You raised a brow at the prince. From what you could recall, he didn’t live inside the palace walls. And there wasn’t a chance he could lie either. “You don’t live here.”

“I used to.” He tipped his glass up to his wine stained lips, taking in the drink whilst taking in the sight of you.

“Where are your—“ You use your hand to gesture in the air as you grab your own glass of wine from a server passing buy. Unsure of how to word your question, you sip on the wine, immediately hit by its strength. “Where are your friends, I should say.”

“Off to bother some mortal or do something stupid.” He smiles in your direction as you down your drink and reach for another. “What’s upsetting you, princess?”

“Nothing.” You tilt your head toward him, eyes flicking down from his strange stare to his stained lips. “Just want time to move faster.”

“How drunk do you want to get?” He leans closer to you, fingers itching to pull you into him.

You place a hand to his mouth and push him further away from yourself. He hums as he traces his finger over his empty wine glass.

“How many glasses have you had, Cardan?” You tip back your third drink, missing his smirk while he watches.

“Enough.”

“Enough to forget?” You turn toward the table and grab the strongest drink, carefully downing the drink.

His shadow towers over you as his breath tickles your neck, “Forget what exactly, love?”

“I hate you.” You say against Cardan’s lips, arms loosely hanging around his neck. “I hate you so much.”

He continues to push you backwards as he slams the door behind him, hands finding their place around your waist. “Feelings mutual, princess.”

Letting your hand thread through his hair, you pull him in for a more heated kiss, tugging ever so slightly at his roots. Cardan groans against your lips, pulling your body closer to his.

“This is such a stupid idea.” You unwillingly part as he drops you down on a bed — hopefully one that used to be his. You let out a small gasp as he litters soft kisses on your throat and down to your exposed collar bone. Your hands find his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. “Cardan—“

“Yes, love?” He slowly makes his way back up to your lips, pressing short kisses as you try to make sense of the situation. He stops attacking you with his lips, staring and waiting for you to continue.

You shake your head, eyes glassy with drunkenness as you meet his gaze. “Kiss me.”

“You’re too perfect for me.” He groans again, tasting the red wine from your lips as he kisses you harder. “God, I hate you.” Cardan mumbles as he lets his hands wander over your body, refraining from the more private areas at the moment.

Cardan allows you to wander over his own body, feeling you fidget with the hem of his shirt. Letting your hands slip underneath his shirt, you let out a small sigh before flipping the both of you over. You quickly toss your dagger onto the floor before meeting his lips again, the kiss heightening all your profound feelings.

As minutes turned into an hour more, you both fell into a pit of no return. The shared kisses were intensified, and without either party having a clear mind or being sober, neither could stop the motions that lulled them both to sleep very late into night.

It wasn’t until early afternoon that the pair awoke to the sounds of pounding at the door and a splitting headache.

“Your highness, your father is looking for you.” The voice called from outside the wooden doors, causing you to groan and bury your head into the warmth emitting from your bed.

A beat passed before the pounding occurred once more.

“Your highness—!”

“In a minute!” Cardan shouted, eyes shut from the dizziness and hangover. “For fucks sake…”

Your eyes widen at the voice, head rushing up before falling back down at the impact of a jaw. “Shit, that hurt.” You mutter, wincing when you felt the hangover hit you. Slowly, you remove yourself from Cardan’s arm, slightly frowning when you saw him rubbing his jaw. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to slam into you…”

“I think that’s the least of our concerns.” He grumbled, glaring at the door again.

He pushed himself up from the bed, eyes raking over your appearance. He smirked over at you before leaning against the headboard. You crease your brows before looking down and realizing whose clothes you were in — crossing your arms over the loose shirt.

“Princess, I think your father will be a little disappointed in you.”

“Why is that?” You roll your eyes at him, keeping one arm over Cardan’s shirt while running your free hand through your hair.

Your bored gaze meet his amused one, watching him tilt his head. You look away as you weren’t necessarily hiding the fact that you were eyeing his bare chest either.

He pulled you into his chest, despite your halfhearted protests. “Because you have hickeys all over your skin.” Cardan presses a kiss to your cheek, causing your breath to hitch.

All the memories from last name came rushing in, warmth filling your body at the thoughts. Your eyes flit to your dress and dagger scattered across his floor, still thinking of the punishment to come.

However, you did not regret him.

“I don’t think we drank enough last night.” You twist in his arms, lips barely touching his.

“I don’t think so.” He lands a soft kiss to your lips. “I still hate you, love.”

“Feelings mutual.” You straddle over his hips and rest your forehead on his, both your heads still pounding from last night’s activities.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) scenario: Heian era childhood

Request by @serendipitylovescat

A/N: This is a possible origin story for Sukuna and Y/N in this onee-chan au, but I haven’t made up my mind as to how the two met and what their lives were like in the early days. Much like with the Joker’s multiple choice past, it’s the mystery that keeps on giving. Anyway, HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE.

Trigger warning: child abuse, bullying, violence, swearing

Ryomen Sukuna. Two-faced Sukuna. Bastard. Murderer. Halfling. Demon.

Normally, parents give extra thought when naming their children. For a lot of boys, they’re usually named based on desired traits like “strong” or “powerful.” But for this son, his father snidely called him “two-faced” and the name stuck. 

Like every baby when they are born, Sukuna arrived in this world covered in blood and weeping. The other villagers could only think of the worst outcome for his mother. After all, so many young wives who were healthier than she died during labor, so it was only normal to expect the stick-thin woman to pass on. 

But for better or worse, she survived. 

A smooth delivery would normally be a thing of celebration, a living mother and her plump baby were supposed to be a blessing. For Sukuna’s parents, such a thing was a curse. 

Born with four arms and four eyes and suspiciously symmetrical birthmarks, such an abomination could only be a curse. 

His father suspected his wife of seducing a yōkai, he became a drunk and beat his wife daily, unwilling to even look at the thing that she claimed to be his own son. The other villagers believed that he ate his twin inside their mother and was punished by the gods. 

No one knew the truth, not even the child himself. 

One thing they could all agree on was this: Sukuna was a monster. 

He was a monster who pushed his father into doing bad things. He was a monster who caused his mother shame and suffering, as she loved to remind him every single day.

Sukuna leaned on the tree, watching as the other kids in their little village played tag. His stomach growled but he could only ignore it. If he returned home to eat, his mother would yell at him. He only ate when she was asleep or beaten into unconsciousness by his father.

“Found you.” 

Sukuna looked up and beamed. That’s right, everyone except one person hated him.

Unlike him, you were normal as far as his eyes could see, but you didn’t like staying in your house and you didn’t talk about your family. Neither of you liked anything or anyone in this village, only each other. 

“Onigiri with fatty tuna I caught this morning,” you said, sitting next to him. 

Sukuna voraciously bit into the rice and fish, savoring every moment with gratitude. “You’re the best cook I know.”

“Tell me if you want some tea. I managed to sneak some out.”

“Thanks–” his grin faded when he spotted familiar black and blue spots on your inner arm. They were the same bruises his mother had when she tried to block her husband’s hands.

“Who did this?” He asked, his three free hands grabbing your wrist.

“Ryo-chan,” you said his nickname–you were the only one who was never afraid of saying his name–“you’re hurting me.”

“S-sorry.” He pulled away two hands and softened the grip on the remaining one. He gently rotated your arm to get a better look. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You grinned. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“Did you—”

“Hey, Ryo-chan…” You shook off his grasp, causing him to frown, but you quickly intertwined your fingers together, making him blush. “If I told you I plan to run away, will you come with me?”

He almost dropped the onigiri. 

Your smile became sad. “I… You’re the only one I will ever miss. I don’t like this place.”

He put his remaining hands over your connected fingers and he blurted out, “Yes!”

You blinked, wide-eyed.

He cleared his throat and looked away. “I-I mean, yes, let’s go.”

Your face brightened and he smiled back. 

That’s right. Even if this damned village burned to the ground, as long as your hand never let go of his then nothing else mattered.

Additional headcanons for this scenario:

Sukuna’s dad never hit him because deep inside the man was actually afraid. So he took out his frustrations on his wife, who in turn, blames her misfortune on her son. 

Speaking of Sukuna’s mother, she was a vain beauty, the most gorgeous in their village during her prime, and was distraught when her appearance faded due to malnutrition during her pregnancy. The entire time, she silently prayed that the baby would die early so she could recover quickly. So in addition to her husband’s mistreatment of her, the loss of her looks has made her resent her son. 

The other village kids didn’t like Sukuna because he gave off a “disgusting energy” (or “bad vibes” as today’s lingo would call it). Some avoided him but others went out of their way to gang up on him, beating him up and stealing whatever he carried, be it food or toys from you.  

Sukuna didn’t fight back because he truly believed that he deserved every bad thing that happened to him. That being said, he allowed himself one selfish choice and accepted your company, enjoying your friendship. The only warmth in his otherwise dead existence.

The first time Sukuna resorted to violence was…it was a few days after your proposal. It was a few minutes before day break and he caught the other kids holding your head down a nearby pond. He didn’t know what he did, only what happened after: you were crying into his chest, hugging and thanking him despite the blood all over him. 

After washing himself, he walked you home, hair and clothes still wet from the pond, your mother was the first person to see you. Instead of concern or worry, she slapped you across the face in front of everyone before dragging you away by the hair.

Because it was your mother, he could only watch on, until your eyes met and you whimpered his name.

That night, a little village with no more than fifty people, burned to the ground as two children watched hand in hand. 

A/N: Speaking of multiple choice past; in JJK (and sadly, even in real life parts of the world), twins are considered bad luck. What if Sukuna didn’t consume his twin in utero and they both survived? What if both fell for Y/N? What if the current Sukuna killed and ate his own brother because he wanted to, in his own sick way, combine himself and his twin into one being so that Y/N wouldn’t have to choose?? Hot damn. The perfect yandere love triangle. But what a pain that would be to write without illustration LOLOLOL.

@shadowywizardarcade @hannya-exists @nineooooo @lilachaeyo @pumpkindudeishere @jessbeinme15 @fluffy-koalala @cringeycookies @frogzxch @isimpfordanielpark @marvelsgirl4ever @sanzusmom @sheccidoscar @alastorhazbin @satosuguswife @lumanii @leahlovesreading @blackstaw @boba–12

[suempu]

hi hi 👋🏼 I absolutely love how you write Kabru and and I was wondering if maybe you could write some headcanons of him with a halfling reader? pleeease 👉🏼👈🏼 sfw or not sfw, all is wonderful when it comes to your writing of him 🌷

no prns for reader + kept this sfw !!

<3

he absolutely adores you for a fact. he’ll use your height difference to teasingly rest his arms on your head, which leads to you kicking his knees or slapping his arm away.

we all know he’s playful towards his friends but he’s an absolute menace towards you since you’re his lover. kabru will purposely leave your stuff on high shelves and laugh as you begrudgingly ask him for help.

“…. where’s my hairbrush? don’t tell me you put it up there again!”

“i’m sorry, i must have misplaced it.” he rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle.

groaning in annoyance, you pinch his arm from the side, “this is getting old real quick. get it or i’m never helping you clean again.”

although you’ve adapted to your heightened senses (as all halfings do), you still get overwhelmed from time to time. kabru will cover your ears when he sees you in an anxious state before walking with you to somewhere private.

whenever you stay at each other’s places, he prefers whispering to you. with no other sounds or voices, if he talked as he usually did, it’d sound too loud for you.

“i’m slicing some fruit, do you want some?” he says, not bothering to shout despite being on the other side of your house.

you sink into the couch with a tired sigh, “yes please, i want apples.”

though the cons of this was that he couldn’t hide anything from you. as long as he keeps his mouth shut, everything is for you to hear.

“oh shit… uh...” kabru mutters under his breath.

a beat of silence passes before your voice echoes throughout your home. “what did you do now?”

“i might’ve… accidentally, well, spilled some stuff.”

he loves playing with your hair too, ruffling them, carding his fingers through them. he just likes petting you since its so easy to reach down and touch them. though he’d stop if you told him to, of course.

very protective of you during dungeon crawling. he trusts that mickbell will keep you safe while you hide away from battles and will ask how you are after.

solid boyfriend if you dont mind having a mean-head whose job is to tease the life out of you.

[parvulous-writings]

It may come to absolutely no surprise to you but.......I have a preference to Halsin in BG3.

If you have any desire to write some fluff......If I could gift this man some honey comb in a jar with a handkerchief wrapped around the top, and there is a duck stitched on the corner of the cloth. I would. Cuz I really wanna. 💕

Words: 2.06K

Notes: Honestly, I do not blame you! Who couldn't love this big bear of a man? He's amazing! Takes place after the main game plot <3 My requests are currently open, though limited! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Halsin Silverbough - Archdruid and friend to many - was an absolute sweetheart, through and through. It was no secret that this strong hulk of a man was not only reasonable when it came to conflict, but actively sought the betterment of those around him. He sought it so actively, in fact, that he rarely ever left time for himself. He was always so ingrained or focused on what he thought needed to be done to right what wrong he could, that he gave little thought to when he may need to just take a step back, and relax. So, you took it upon yourself to give him the opportunity to.

Of course, being the lover of the Archdruid comes with some perks; one of those being that you knew everyone within the Grove. One of the younger druids, a young halfling named Barnan, had taken up beekeeping once the druids had re-settled, and that gave you the perfect idea for Halsin's little treat. "Good morning, Barnan!" You greet the shorter figure as you approach, glass jar in hand. Barnan jumps, startled by your somewhat sudden appearance. "I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.." You chuckle lightly, as Barnan recovers. "Oh, but of course-" He says quickly, patting down the apron that he so often wore over his normal plain clothes. "What is it that you need?" He asks you, a smile starting to spread over his face.

"I was hoping to get Halsin a little something... He's been practically run off of his feet again recently, and I think he deserves a treat..." You explain, not getting too into all the details, but giving the Halfling enough to know that it was important to you. He nods enthusiastically, turning to the shelves he had pitched up outside his little shack; "Let me see if I have anything that might take his fancy..." He muses, tapping gently at his chin. "Actually, I had something in mind already..." You gently tell him, and as he turns, you hold up the glass jar you had brought with you. "Halsin likes honey - I was wondering if one of your hives could spare some honeycomb for him?" Barnan blinks, then begins to nod, reaching for the jar. "Oh, but of course, of course! Let me take that for you..." He then pauses, looking at the jar for a moment, almost... Concerned. "Are you quite sure this will be enough..?" He turns his gaze back to you for a moment. You seem almost shocked - that was one of the larger jars you had found. Though, looking at it now... You supposed Barnan had a point - Halsin naturally had a large appetite. "Do you have a larger jar?" You ask after a moment's pause, and Barnan grins. "I wouldn't be a very good beekeeper if I didn't, now, would I?" He replied, making you laugh. "I'll grab one for you," He tells you as he hands you your jar back. "Wait here, I shan't be long.." You nod and move to take a seat on a stool Barnan often sits on in the morning - he loves his spot here, with a perfect view of the morning sun.

The breeze is lovely; warm and inviting, and carrying the many scents of the various wildflowers that are nearby, that grow all over the grove in fact. Branan really knew how to pick a good spot for himself to stay - and an even better for his beehives. There wasn't much that you considered 'perfect', but this place? A place so gorgeous, and the home of those you held so dear? This was perfect, without a doubt. Lost in your thoughts, you're unsure of how much time actually passes whilst Barnan retrieves some honeycomb for you. When he returns, he's carrying in incredibly large jar in his arms. "You're in luck," He pants to you, as he places the filled jar on the grass by your legs, "There was a fair deal of surplus comb in all the hives - I really should be keeping on top of them more, this far into summer... Ah well, I just suppose the days have been getting away from me!" He laughs. You chuckle along with him. "Thank you, Barnan... I really appreciate this..." You get to your feet, leaning down to pick up the jar with both hands. "Oh it's no trouble, no trouble at all... Give Master Halsin my regards!" "Of course - I wouldn't dream of neglecting to mention your help," You muse. "Have a good day, friend." You smile at him, and Barnan gives a nod, still smiling warmly. "And to you, my friend."

And with that, you start the short walk back to yours and Halsin's shared quarters, deeper in the Grove. It's always a pleasant walk - whether it's in the middle of the day, or the dead of night. During the day, you're greeted with polite 'hellos' and 'how are you's', and at night, you get to bask in the blissful sounds of nature as the world sleeps. By the time you manage to get back to your shared space, Halsin is already awake, half dressed, and lumbering out into the near midday sun. He stretches, basking in the warmth the light blesses him with, as you quickly try to hide the jar behind your back, not quite ready to give him the gift. "Good morning, my heart.." He greets you, smiling lovingly down at you. "I see you did not wake me..." He muses as he moves a bit closer. "May I ask why?" "I just thought that you deserved a bit of a rest... You haven't given much time for yourself recently, and I think you should." You reply, nodding as you spoke. Halsin starts to nod with you, humming quietly in agreement. He could find no fault in your answer. He starts to chuckle lightly; "Sometimes I feel like you know me better than even I know myself," He tells you, opening his arms and stepping forward for a hug. You quickly duck under his arm, spinning round before he can see the honey pot you're concealing with your torso. Halsin's head turns, trying to catch up with where you've flitted to, his expression portraying his almost comical bafflement. "My love..?" He starts, trailing off mid-sentence. "No you haven't done anything." You quickly clear up for him, giving him a smile of reassurance. "Then why do you dodge my embrace, hm?" "I have a surprise for you," You divulge, your tone almost cheeky. "And it'd be an awful shame to ruin it." Halsin can't help but laugh a little bit at this - he thinks himself almost foolish for so quickly jumping to the idea that you would recoil from his embrace, and your audacious tone did also amuse him so. "Alright, I shall... Let it go, this time." He teases. "I hope that the surprise will be ready before this evening, so I may embrace you at least once today..." "It will, it will... So long as you actually let me go continue preparing it.." You tease, and Halsin bows his head a bit in laughter. "As you wish, my love..." He murmurs. "I shall leave you to whatever antics you've managed to entrench yourself in today... Just don't get into trouble." He warns, only half joking. You roll your eyes playfully at him, before ducking inside, and out of his sight.

You're quick to rummage through what belongings you have to find the sewing kit you keep, mainly for clothing repairs, picking out a larger needle than normal, alongside some yellow thread. You set to work carefully, threading the needle carefully through the corner of the cloth that covers the honey jar, keeping it safe from bugs and other wandering hands. The little image comes together rather quickly and with a splash of other colours - a dash of black, and orange - you've finished your little project, and before you sits a embroidered duck chick. You admire it for a moment, proud of it. You know for a fact, that Halsin will love this - even if you weren't as proud of it as you were now, he'd still love it. You push yourself to your feet after a moment or so of making sure that you're satisfied, making your way out into the sun again. You shield your eyes with one hand, cradling the jar in your arm much like a baby. It doesn't take you long to find Halsin, knife and woodblock in hand, carefully chipping away at the carving he's started. You stroll towards him, smile growing on your face as you wait for him to notice you. "Ah, my heart..." Halsin starts, his gaze still focused on the block of wood as he carves. "I thought today may be a good opportunity to finally set about making us some new utensils.." He tells you, before finally glancing up. His jaw goes a bit slack, before he starts to laugh. "This was your surprise?" He asks you, as you present the honeycomb to him. "It is indeed... Do you like it?" "Like it? My love, I'm not quite sure how to express my thanks... You really did mean it when you thought I deserved time for myself, hm?" "Oh, I wouldn't say something I don't mean... I know better than that.." You muse quietly. "Barnan also sends his regards..." You grunt softly as you move to sit beside him. He leans over to you and presses a kiss to your cheek, and you can feel the smile still on his lips. "I shall thank him when I see him next..." He tells you as he moves to take the cloth-lid off of the jar, pausing to chuckle at the embroidered duck. "And I presume this is your handiwork?" He asks you, turning the corner of the cloth slightly towards you to show you. You nod at him. "Such a small detail..." The elf muses, smiling as he ran his thumb over the stitches. "Thank you, my love. Truly." He takes off the cloth, placing it on his lap for later, and before you can say anything else to him, his hand is in the jar, grasping for some of the sweet comb inside. You can't help but laugh at the sight - but you knew there was nothing you'd be able to do to stop him. He ignores you, choosing to focus instead on crunching down on the sweet treat you'd procured for him. He practically groans as the taste hits his tongue, and your grin stretches ever wider. "Enjoying yourself, my love?" You ask him, and he nods hurriedly as he takes another mouthful of honeycomb; you start to wonder if it's even touching the sides at this point. "Slow down, you don't want to eat it all in one sitting, do you?" You tease, and at this, he does slow down a little bit. He pauses for a moment, honey dripping off of his hand and into the jar as he finishes his mouthful. He then brings his hand towards your mouth. "Open," He prompts gently, and you comply, soon tasting the same sweet honey you had gifted to your partner.

As he pulls his hand away to eat the rest of the honey stuck to it himself, you give another quiet chuckle. "I didn't think you'd want to share this treat - I wasn't expecting you to." You tell him, and he picks up another chunk of comb, handing it to you. "I know you didn't expect me to. But with you, my love, I would share all of nature's bounty... It is not for one person to hoard it to themselves, it is to be shared and revelled in.." He says, rather sagely, as you bite into the crunchy snack he had bestowed upon you. "I didn't know you felt so strongly about honeycomb." You teased him, smirking as you did. "Of course I do. And don't talk with your mouth full." He playfully chides, gently bumping his shoulder into yours. You both lapse into a comfortable silence after that, sharing the honey and gazing out on the landscape that you call home. It's a peaceful moment, and one that both you and Halsin will certainly treasure for a very, very long time.

[friendlyfoxpal]

Bumbling Screaming Fools

Based off my first ever Dnd session.

Lou Toque the halfling comes across some huge, panicked creatures. Some she doesn't even know what they are. But definitely a lot to take in for all that are there.

Tim the giant Satyr, Evan the Leopard taur, Rosy the Pink Oni. Were all originally human, but they changed quite dramatically upon being Isekaied to a new place.

Torrelan the Drow eats some moss. Yum. Tastes like home.

@dekameter @starlust7 @pinksparkle224 @fruit-fairy2

[sorcerous-caress]

Companions with a Halfling Tav

[Fluff, kind reader, chubby reader, halfling reader, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara]

Wyll

Anyone seeing the two of you together wouldn't have believed that you were strangers who met less than a month ago. The playful teasing, the wholehearted smiles, and the comfort at being at each other's sides.

You really had a way to wrap every human you meet around your fingers, like you were an old friend they haven't met in a long time. It didn't take long for Wyll to feel at ease around you.

Your kind nature, your beautiful smile and your cheery demenour. You've always known how to brighten the mood and lift someone up even on their worst days.

Each meeting with Mizora left a sour taste in the aftermath, yet you've washed it down with each warm drink you handed to Wyll afterwards. Looking up at him from below, he felt his heart melt at the concerned look in your glossy eyes as you lifted the cup up towards him, a reassuring smile on your lovely lips.

A smile that said things will be better, that he will be okay.

He felt like the luckiest man in the world to have met you, met someone as precious and caring as you.

Karlach

And here she thought she'd be the only person in this camp who is looking to have fun and forgo the storm for rainbow.

The others are fine, but Karlach had what felt like a lifetime of misery already, of constant struggle and endless days to wallow in her sadness.

She has missed life, missed living and the excitement of it. The tenderness of a hug, and yours are absolutely the best she has ever had.

The way you fit perfectly into her arms whenever she gets on her knees to wrap you in her embrace. Your soft chubby body was brimming with love and care. Each warm hug reminded her of why life is worth living, of why she fights so hard everyday to stay a little bit longer.

She understands know why the goddess of halflings is also that of life, you're the embodiment of the one thing she was robbed of and god she never plans on letting you slip through her fingers.

The sound of both of your laughter can be heard in the early breakfast as Karlach sits next to you, her head laying on her crossed arms on the table while admiring you from the side. A time where everyone else is grumpy and sleepy, the two of you manage to be bundles of sunshine.

Your energy feeding into one another, returning the same effort and regifting the same happiness back.

Gale

Enjoys cooking food with you by his side. There is something to be said about the homely magic halflings bring with them wherever they may go.

Somehow, you sitting near him on the table and helping him chop down the vegetables for the stew, makes him feel at ease. Your smile is infectious, and Gale finds himself humming a song as the two of you make dinner together for the rest of the camp.

Your kind had a clear appreciation for the arts, for the many things humanity invented. Gale would invite you back to his tent after the meal, offer to read you stories as your small body curls on top of him. His blanket keeping the both of you warm.

Gale is sharing one of the most prestigious literature books, yet you've easily managed to keep up with the complex lore, identifying the many plot twists before they could happen. All while laying on top of him, letting him greedly cuddle your soft chubby body and speak his heart out.

Halfling and humans truly had a bond like no other, so similar and yet so distinct. To Gale, you were the warm home he'd come back to at the end of an adventure, the warm cup of chocolate during a rainy day.

Lae'zel

She doesn't treat you any differently. One day, you bring up the fact of being halfling, and she says she didn't really notice.

If you ask more then she admits that she judges and memorise people by their combat abilities, rarely by their looks or shapes. As far as she was concerned, she wouldn't have been able to tell you apart from a tiefling. To her, there are only gith and others.

While you do fall into others, you're not exactly like them. There is something special about you, the fact you take a step back each time the party fails or encounters something damning, let them recollect themselves and have some time to relax before embarking again.

She admits she has always looked down on those ways, thought they were meaningless and a waste of time. Yet you've proven her wrong many times, and that she admits.

To rest, sit back and stay in the current moment. She feels restless, gets more agitated the more she has nothing to do. What do you mean her sword is sharp enough and doesn't need more sanding? You don't know what you're talking about, there is nothing such as too much sanding.

But you hold her hend in your own, entangle your finger with hers. Guide her back to the fire with the rest of the companions, hand her a warm bowl of soup and tell her to take it easy.

She hasn't touched her soup, yet there is a great warmth spreading through her. Your hums of a melody, quiets her brain, your touches, relaxes her drumming heart.

She looks at the stars and longs for a home she has never seen before, a place where she should belong. But at this moment, nothing in her life felt more like home than sitting by your side.

Shadowheart

She's been taught to hold on to her sadness, to use it to guide her. That her suffering gives her purpose, that hear tears give her meaning.

The two of you have a lot to learn from each other, the moon and sun in an endless dance, chasing one another whilst avoiding the other.

She relives her sadness too much, reopens her wounds too many times. You bury yours, stretch your smiles too thin and downplay your injuries too often.

She returns your kindness and is there to see you at your worst of states. When you can't be the person who is expected to cheer everyone up, when you feel like the ground is crumbling beneath your feet, she catches you in her arms.

And you teach her forgiveness, of her self, current and past. Of her sins, current and future. You extend a hand of mercy and she in return offers an embrace of empathy.

The two of you share a special bond of mutual respect and understanding.

Astarion

He never thought he'd fall for someone shorter than him, truth be told. High elves were always raised on these less than ideal views for the smaller races.

And maybe this is the irony of the fate, that the single person to manage to steal his heart was you. Barely reaching his waist and easily lifting him up.

He was cautious around you at the state, after all the most chipper and goody two shoes people hid the darkest secrets behind that facade. You can't possibly be all smiles and rainbows, can you?

Yet no matter how many times he rummaged through your closet, not a single skeleton could be found, not even a loose tooth or a spine.

Astarion didn't realise how much he was starting to warm up to you, until that one morning you were helping him brush his hair while he sipped on a cup of a blood you've kindly prepared for him.

As he held the cup with the cute cow prints on it, the same one he stole from you, it hit him.

You've been coddling him and making him feel at home without him realising it for so long! And like an idiot he absolutely ate it up. God, is this why his ancestors warned him about Halflings? They really sneak up on you when you least expect it, and the next thing you know, you're spending hours making friendship bracelets for each other.

No, of course, he'll never take it off. Are you crazy? Anyway, you sneaky traitor, it's his turn to do your hair, so come sit on his lap so he can leech of your warmth while hugging your plump body and stomach. No shush, he has earned this. Look, he even has a friendship bracelet as proof.

Halsin

He is very gentle with you, aware of his size, and makes sure never to make you feel uncomfortable or take too much space around you.

Halflings are one of the many gifts of nature, their kind souls and inviting homes have been written about in many elf history books. The best friends of the infamous humans.

You ground him back into reality whenever he gets too lost in his head, worrying about the shocking reality of the modern cities, or the forgotten essence of nature. Your tender touch against his cheek and invitation to sit near the fire and talk it out is everything he could've ever asked for.

You bring home with you wherever you go, be it amidst the misty shadowlands and withering trees, or inside the basement of an abandoned building the party sought cover in from the outside rain.

In fact you'd be the type to embrace the rain and dance in it, barefoot and all. Reigniting Halsin's connection to nature by reminding him of all the beautiful gifts of these earths.

Minthara

Just who do you think you are? Waltzing in here like a drop of sunshine, all cute and small, making Minthara question her sanity.

You stand for everything she has been raised against, the loud laughter that'd get you killed in the underdark, the friendly kind nature that'd get you taken advantage of by the drows, the lovely smile that you flaunt around so easily.

And yet, you're the hero of her story. The person who saved her, let her keep her identity when they tried to erease her existence.

Your light never dims no matter how grumpy she is, your smile never falters no matter how deep her frown gets.

She respects you, admires you and is enthralled by your beauty. The way your thighs look so mesmerising whenever you walk, your chubby fingers that look so short in comparison to her larger hand.

Minthara have pressed the edge of her sword against people's necks for simply thinking they get to pick you up without permission. Have threatened people's lives over some insensitive comments about your own kind and how halflings don't belong in the battefield.

You're brave, truly brave. It takes true strength to remain kind in the face of a harsh world, to remain soft inside. And Minthara knows that, for it is the one thing she couldn't amount to.

[llondonfog]

as promised for coming home on my only 10-pull key, a little birthday drabble for our beloved peepaw :) pls enjoy & happy new year to all!

". . . Cookies?"

He makes no effort to disguise the insulted disbelief as he stares down at the plate of misshapen treats, eyebrows flying so far into his hairline that they nearly disappear.

"He may be but a child, and a human at that, but surely he ought to understand the gravity of your former position, the glories in which you are entitled to—"

"Former, and disgraced if I might add," Lilia corrects him, a lopsided grin tugging on his face as he too gazes at the plate of cookies with a ludicrously pleased expression. "And Silver is all of seven, Baul. A seven year old child who worked rather hard today at staying awake to surprise me with something delicious, so I'd be most grateful if you could manage to tame that famous Zigvolt boom as I'd hate for him to wake up from his nap."

It's worse than Baul could have ever expected.

Lilia Vanrouge, the fearless and fearsome once general of the fae armies, the former right hand to their dearly departed princess, turned sentimental over a plate of lumpy, and frankly burnt on the edges, cookies.

He'd come over to further discuss the matter of his grandson training with his former commander, staunchly ignorant of his own sentimentality towards the halfling child who so closely resembled him in both pride and spirit, only to find the fae sitting alone at the kitchen table with an odd and unfamiliar expression vulnerable upon his face and cradling a cookie as carefully within his talons as if it were spun from glass. Baul had nearly leapt to arms, convinced that there had been some sort of spell or potion from those who still wished ill upon Lilia cast to tempt him into eating such bizarre looking food— even though it looked clumsily made, there was simply no way he would have been fooled into believing it had been the product of Lilia's disastrous attempts. It simply wasn't foul enough— when Lilia had startled back into awareness, only to laugh at him and proclaim to Baul's utter bewilderment that these...cookies, were in fact his birthday gift from the human child residing within his home.

To which Baul promptly informed Lilia that he had taken leave of his senses and he'd never once shared that he knew of his birthday before. If he had, there'd have been no chance of the entire country forgetting it for the wondrous celebration Meleanor and Levan would have certainly thrown in the honor of their dearest friend.

"You're right," Lilia had said, smiling that strange little half-smile as he broke his gaze away from the plate to the quiet hallway leading from the kitchen. "But then again, I had nothing about myself to celebrate until very recently."

And there, the crux of the matter, the elephant in the room that Baul never truly questioned out of loyalty to the fae that had given more than anyone ever could to the sake of their country, to the Draconias alone. The human child, the boy that had shown up suddenly and stolen Lilia away to the forest, bewitched him somehow into playing house. Baul cannot understand it— Lilia had more reason than any of them to loathe humanity, to shun it for the remainder of his life and seek to live in peace away from their kind after their unforgivable transgressions.

Instead, in front of his astounded eyes, he can only watch in silence as a tear splashes down upon the chocolate speckled surface of the cookie before it's hastily crammed into Lilia's mouth, the fae spinning around to grin at him as if in blissful ignorance of the redness gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"They're a bit salty, Baul, but I've never tasted anything better!"

Oh, he thinks, heart shaking in place as he too glances towards where a certain slumbering boy lies. Oh, you old fool. Do you even know how deep you've gone?

[tallgirl14]

What if chilchuck joined Laios group when his kids were younge???

Chil: I need to grab something from my house

Marcille: we get to meet your family!?

Chil: NO! You're going to stay a couple of feet from my house while I run inside. I'll be in out and done.

Oh, and Marcille, keep your hood up. I don't want you scaring anyone

Outside his house, the party sees a little girl with dark hair playing, and chilchuck immediately picks her up and brings her inside

Marcille: "i didn't know he had a sister."

Senchi: "Didn't he say his dad died when he was young? That probably forced him to be the breadwinner of his family."

Laios: "That sounds about right from what I've read."

Inside the house, chilchuck puts down Fuler, and his wife turns around, surprise to see her husband back so soon

Bea: "Your back?? Did something happen?"

Chi: "Yes, and no, it's complicated. I'm ok. I just came to grab"

Fuler: "theres big people with daddy."

Bea: "What?" She moves to the windo and sees what looks to like 2 tall men and a dwarf

Chil pulls her from the window "where are the girls?"

Bea: " Meijacks at school and puck is still taking a nap"

Chil: " ok good" kiss his wife on cheek then runs to his office. " keep them inside until we're gone. This the party ive been working with that told you about There harmless, just weird

Backoutside party notices someone had come to the window and chilchuck quickly came over and shut the curtains

Senchi: " how many people are in his family do you know?

Laios: "no chil dosnet like to mix home and work because of how dangerous the work is.

Marille: but what if something were to happen how would his family know??

Laois: that's why he's made union to be the middle man they would pass word to his family. It makes since I've heard storied of angery party members going after family members so it makes since he wants us to keep our distance.

The group is distracted when they hear a small "hello" the look down to see lil half-foot maybe 3yr of age

Marcille squeals seeing how cute she is and she kneels down " HI, arnt you the cutes thing, do you live in that house?" She points and little girl nodded " im Puckpattie"

" it's nice to meet you, I'm Marcille this is senchi and Laios we work with your big brother." They notice she had confused expression but just as quickly as it came it left as she goes to pull something out of her pocket and hands it to marcille " here for you" marcille except excitedly sees the little half-foot has gifted her a pinecone with googly eyes "thank you!"

Up the road meijack is walking home from school when she noticed 3 Stanger infront of her house and a woman about to pick up her baby. Sister dread hit her and she takes off sprinting. Laios is the first to get hit by a flying school book at the back of his head and the group turns to see another halfLing this one looked to be and exact copy of chilchuck there was no question that they were related

Mei holding a big rock in one hand ready to throw: " don't touch her!"

Laios pust his hands up " it's ok were not here cause trouble"

Mei: " you brought trouble trying to take a kid that's not yours"

Marcille moves toward her " no I wasn't were here with your brother-"

Puckpattie runs over to meijack happily " your back" and hugs her leg but Mei dosnet take her eyes off the strangers " I don't have a brother"

Inside the house Fullertom looking out the windo and chilchuck yells at her to get away from the windo

Fuler wines " but why dose Mei and puck get to talk to your friends?"

Chil: "What??" And runs out of the house seeing his oldest armed with a rock holding her youngest "HEY"

Everyone turns to see chilchuck running towards them meijack looks confused " dad??"

Marcille knocking off her hood " your a Dad???"

Senchi: " he's s teen parent?!??!"

Meijack looks back now terrified seeing the woman she thought was trying to take her sister is an elf and throws the the rock hitting marcille.

Chilchuck grabes his meijack so she doesn't throws anything else. She looks up at her dad terrified" hey it ok it's ok." Meijacks: she an elf she was tried to take puck ."

Chil" he's harmless she's mostly nosey" Looks back at marcille " you ok? " she nods " just a scratch."

[dullgecko]

I felt compelled to do language headcanons and got carried away… Sorry!

Gorgug speaks in a mix of Gnomish and Orcish when he gets really into an artificing project or when he’s genuinely pissed(not in a Rage, just actually mad), like to the point it’s unintelligible even with Adaine casting Understand Language.

Fig does something similar when she gets mad just a mix of Elvish and Infernal, though it’s easier for Adaine and Fabian to understand that one. Everyone knows not to bother her if she’s mumbling in both languages since it takes a lot to get her to that point, usually Ayda has to come in and calm her down.

Riz and Gorgug both have a thing where they forget the word for something in Common and try to come up with what they think it is, with wild descriptions and weird names for it. Meanwhile Fig and Kristen are laughing at each attempt, Adaine is begging them to just say it in their respective languages while she’s casting Understand Languages, and Fabian is genuinely playing along trying to guess what they’re saying(He is SO far off).

The Thistlesprings have that country-like accent because Gnomish has a similar sound to it, the only times they speak in Common is when Gorgug has friends over or when they’re around people who don’t understand Gnomish. So by default Gorgug has a slight country accent, though it isn’t noticeable unless he says certain words.(I’m giving a reason for the “Even cowgirls get the blues” if you couldn’t tell.)

(Not language related but eh) Riz, Fig, Gorgug, and Ragh all make animalistic noises. Often they purr or growl softly when all the bad kids are in a cuddle pile or when they’re just cozy, Ragh is the loudest.

Adaine got taught how to howl and growl correctly by Jawbone, specifically how to do it in an affectionate way. Tracker cried when she came back home and was immediately greeted by both Jawbone and Adaine howling their love for her. Kristen was very confused, then later started to learn it as well, for Tracker.

Fabian can’t speak Halfling, he only new the songs Cathilda sang to him as a kid and realized he should probably try and learn it. He went to one if the Halfling teachers during Junior year and begged him to teach him the language so he could surprise Cathilda with a proper greeting when she got back home. He still wasn’t very good at it when she arrived, he mixed up a word and ended up calling her a canoe, but she still cried at her beautiful boy’s effort.

Kristen sometimes just sits and stares when one of the others rant in a different language, then when they’re finished she goes, “I’m sure you’re very correct in whatever opinion you just had.” and moves on. It’s very therapeutic to rant to someone who can’t understand what you’re saying and still supports your opinions, apparently.

Oh its beautiful, i love it. Multi-lingual bad kids my beloved.

Gorgugs orcish isnt anywhere near as fluent as his gnomish or common, but its gotten a lot better since they became friends with Ragh and his mum. He tries to chat with her in orcish whenever they meet, and she helps him with his pronounciation. He mostly has trouble with the more gutteral sounds, but he's getting better at roaring with Ragh and his mums help. Riz helps him practice too whenever they're out of town, because he ALSO knows Orcish but he never elaborates on how he is fluent when asked (he used to play chess with some elderly orcs who lived down the hallway from him while his mum was at work, and he's a quick study).

He enjoys speaking it when he gets genuinely pissed because gnomish just sounds hilarious when spoken with anger. They dont have good swear words, the harshest one that exists in gnomish is the equivilent of 'fiddlesticks'.

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

Infernal is also an awesome language to be pissed off in, it allows for a lot of harsh consonants and yelling and maybe a little horrifying screaming. Elvish however is great when you really want to insult someone in a way that would cause psychic damage. Combining the two is /incredibly/ satisfying because you can call someone a "*screeches of the damned* piece of shit whos parentage is *horrifying chattering* and he deserves to rot forever in the foresaken bowels of the inferno where he'll be turned into a *hissing and clicking*". Riz looking over from where he's half-ignoring her and going 'oh damn, goblin also uses that last one" before adding another note to a document he and Fig regularly update called 'words shared by infernal and goblin'.

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

"You know, the THING. You put it on food. Tastes good, will kill you if you have too much." "Chilli powder?" "NO its a rock. it literally translates out to tasty rock in goblin." "What the fuck are you on about who eats rocks." SALT, the answer was salt.

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

All of Gorgugs extended family live out in farming country away from the city. His parents took him to visit a lot over summer breaks when he was little and still fit inside their houses (he loved watching the ponies as a kid, and the accent became well and truely stuck). Now he'd be too big to get through the front door, but at reunions they usually clear a space out in the barn where he can sleep.

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

Riz, Fig, Gorgug and Ragh making more animalistic noises is pretty well known amoung the group. Ragh and Gorgug definitely purr and growl, but when REALLY pissed off they can also roar and bellow in a way that other people can feel in their chests.

Riz and Fig have definitly started doing it more the longer they've known the others (Riz because he was trying VERY hard to not seem super monster-y but is now a lot more comfortable being himself and Fig because she's still becoming more infernal slowly). There are still some noises the others have only heard recently though, which both happened over about ten seconds. Riz had been hanging out with the others at the mall, and both himself and Fig had stepped away from the others to get refills on their drinks. None of the others really saw what started it but a stranger had grabbed and picked up Riz which made him make a screeching-yowling noise of pain and anger so loud that they heard it from across the food court. Figs own infernal snarl of rage was almost as loud as the sound of the assholes nose breaking when she promptly headbutt him at full strength to make him drop the goblin. Riz managed to get a good swipe in at the guys achilies before promptly disappearing while Fig ran.

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

Jawbone loves his kids, and Adaine loves him back. She feels a little silly howling everytime he comes home but its a good kind of silly. It feels a little LESS silly when half the house is doing it together.

She has to be careful with the growling though, and who she growls at. What might be a fun and playful cadence for Jawbone and Tracker made Riz's pupils contract to slits and his ears flatten backwards before he clocked it was her and put the pieces together (Oh its Adaine, she is not pissed off and threatening me. Wait why the fuck did she growl at me?).

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

Fabian spoke halfling before he spoke common, but forgot a LOT of it as he got older (but he never forgot the words to those songs). He spends months using fantasy duolinguo to bring his fluency back up and, after surprising Cathilda with how good he's gotten, starts getting proper lessons from her as well (she is by far more terrifying than the language bird, so he never misses practice time).

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

Kristen knows some elvish, but not well enough to parse the more rapid-fire ranting that she sits through so she just nods and makes general noises of agreement at points she thinks are appropriate.

Riz she has ZERO hope of understanding because they dont shift their vocal register to a level she can hear the entire time when they're really pissed off (there are a lot of subsonics that elves and orcs can only JUST pick up, but her human hearing has no hope), even after the whole party starts learning goblin in secret to surprise Riz later. She smiles, nods, and makes him a new coffee when his old one runs out.

[bigmfrat]

Having a rough time so have some spec evo crumbs that have been sitting in the squidcord for months that I only just got around to drawing to distract myself with

Teeth fall out regularly and are quickly replaced.

Only Minor and Minor/intercaste (more on this below the line) have feeding Tentacles.

Feeding Tentacles are stiffer than your regular tenties and remain in pockets when not in use. The ends also have very small teeth for gripping, they feel like velcro.

Teeth are dull but their jaws are for crushing bone so it doesnt matter.

"Venom" (bone melting enzyme) is black, sticky, and viscous, can be spit but is always a last resort. Most bites are dry bites.

Claws come out of the tip of the finger as apposed to the top like humanoids

Like cats and dogs, Illithid have a quick, if damaged it will bleed (a lot)

Claws dull with use and must be taken care of to be sharp

Caste System

The Primordial Illithid society resembled that of an ant colony but on a smaller scale, their species naturally came in three basic castes that had their own biological functions. The modern Terrestrial illithids have retained the physical characteristics of their ancestors, though are now much smaller, and they no longer serve any function in their society.

The three base castes are:

Major

Height Range: 6'8 - 7'5

Prey species: Humans, Half Orcs, Dragonborn, High Elves, Tiefling

Physical Traits: Longer tentacles, Longer and usually pointed braincase

Birthrate: 1

Media

Height Range: 5'7 - 6'9

Prey species: Humans, Elves, Tiefling, Drow

Physical Traits: Medium tentacles, Rounded head, Most often have "beaks" - but not always, this trait is seen less with each generation.

Birthrate: 3

Minor

Hight Range: 4'5 - 5'9

Prey Species: Gnomes, Halflings, dwarves, Drow

Physical Traits: Shorter tentacles, Longer and pointed braincase.

Birthrate: 4

Minors have a few unique features and are the most faithful to their home world ancestors, the first being two long and thin feeding tentacles that remain retracted in their throats until they find prey, and two specially adapted tentacles on their forehead used as communication displays, these two traits have been entirely lost on the other two castes, Despite these 4 extra "tentacles" they are not to be mistaken for Ulitharids. Minors are also extremely rare outside of colonies despite being the most plentiful caste, this is due to their function in their original society as caretakers and homemakers, a Minor is more likely to take re-education over expulsion due to their social needs and most renegade Minors tend to be Inter-caste.

Each caste is biologically inclined to its individual food items, even with free access to enthralled meals of any race, they will usually stick to their preferred prey.

Three additional castes:

Ulitharid

Height Range: A foot above the intended caste's average height

Prey Species: Humans, Elves, Tieflings, Dragonborn, Half Orcs

Physical traits: Two additional tentacles, usually thinner but longer than the main four.

Birthrate: 0.002

Any caste can become an Ulitharid.

Inter-caste Inter-caste is the closest thing you will get to a hybrid when it comes to Illithid. Each tadpole holds the full range of natural genetic code and has the potential to become any caste, what determines the end result is the tadpole's lineage; If the parent was a Media, the child will also be a Media. In the case of Inter-caste, however, one or two traits from one of the other castes may unintentionally come through. This can result in a Major with shorter tentacles or an unusually tall Minor.

Apex (more on Apex Illithid found here) Illithid super soldiers. Built like a tank with an intelligence to match, while their psionics are rather basic, they make up for it with an insane might and an ingrained determination to get the job done. Very rare and will ALWAYS be pure Majors.

None of these castes are natural, Ulitharids and Apex specifically did not exist until Elderbrains took over the race and while inter-castes did happen on occasion, they were much rarer before the Illithids were domesticated.

Other traits unrelating to castes:

Illithid DNA is very malleable and significant changes can be made in a single generation, while Elderbrain aren't the best at gene editing some differences can clearly be seen between colonies. The most noticeable example is their foot configuration: while Illithid living in a more aquatic environment will have the standard two webbed toes tipped with a large claw, their somewhat "dryer" cousins may sport a more humanoid approach with 3-4 webbed toes in the traditional Illithid style. A mindflayer with Human hands or feet however would be seen as deformed.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Kid falls asleep somewhere and the caretaker finds them, bringing them to their bed

This is probably one of my favorite childhood memories 🥺❤️

Synopsis: Astarion is carrying his daughter to bed for the last time in her life.

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, fluff

This is the fluffiest thing I ever written. And since you all like reading about Astarion's daughter's future - I've written the whole part with adult Alethaine POV as she takes care of her own child centuries later.

Alethaine's age (1st part) - 17-years-old

Alethaine's age (2nd part) - 316-years-old

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion is drunk with blood and night. His body is warm but his head is dizzy with happiness. Here, deep in the woods of the Unicorn Run, he can be truly himself.

A predator. A hunter.

A vampire.

He is free. He is fast. He is dangerous. Animal blood satiates him and he feels like the shadows of the past are leaving him.

There are still nightmares. Sorrows. Sometimes he is so angry he smashes things against the wall or tries to tear at his hair. 

But it doesn’t mean anything, after all. It all ended. For good. 

He will never be hungry again. He will never be tortured. Or forced to sleep with strangers. No more pain, no more misery, no more rapes.

He has a home. He has a family. He even has friends who pretend they don’t know he is a vampire. 

He has everything, and no one will take it from him.

Astarion comes back slowly, enjoying every step he makes with his bare feet. His ears twitch in anticipation – he knows he is being waited for at home. Tiriel will welcome him with her genuine smile, asking how his night walk was. Alethaine, their daughter, is probably somewhere else – she is seventeen and Astarion knows she has her own life right now, and he will know details of it only if she decides to tell.

Though, there is one problem.

Somehow Alethaine isn’t interested in relationships. Neither girls nor boys. Once she admitted to him she just didn’t get what all this fuss was about and the only person in the whole town who tried to ask her for a date ended up with a broken hand. Astarion refused to punish Alethaine for violence (“It’s your son’s problem if he can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, not mine.”), but it surprises him how little someone could care about love, relationships, and sex. 

Alethaine read the Necromancy of Thay at fifteen and she understands it much better than he ever will, but boys and girls? Absolutely unknown and weird.

Astarion decides to take a long path to the underground part of the town to enjoy the surface at least a little bit more. It takes him to the town’s cemetery – its old part almost forgotten by humans and halflings whose lifespan is so short that elves and dwarves don’t have enough time to get used to them.

And then he sees a familiar black leather bag with books.

He turns left and sees Alethaine curled on someone’s century-old grave.

It seems like she was reading and then decided to take a nap putting the book aside. Astarion picks the book up. Dragons, wyrms and drakes. The study. Probably one of the books she got from a traveling merchant a month ago. Astarion remembers how she came home with a huge pile of volumes proudly saying that she’s spent all the money she earned by working in the tavern and fortune-telling. 

1000 Poisons and Antidotes, A Field Guide To Fey, Thirty Ways To Skin a Dragon, Myth and Legends of Calimshan and also a few books in Infernal she got to “practice”.There was something else but Astarion doesn’t remember. 

Astarion reaches out for her shoulder to wake her up but then stops. There is something so precious and unreal he can’t take his eyes off Alethaine. 

She is beautiful. People say she looks like him, but he can’t be sure. Pale skin, elven ears, hair as silver as the moonlight. She is delicate like a fey and looks as fragile as a porcelain doll.

Astarion concentrates and hears her heartbeat. 

So alive. So real. So precious.

In moments like this, he can’t believe she is his child. When she was a baby, he mostly adored how cute she was. But now— 

It’s probably the first time Astarion realizes his daughter is almost an adult.

She is a beautiful and smart woman, her very own person, so different from both him and Tiriel. Damn, Tiriel is often asked what crypt she found her daughter in!

Astarion smiles looking at his baby – she will always be a baby to him. No matter how many centuries will pass, he will never forget a tiny dhampir who constantly cried to get his attention. And whom he carried to bed if she fell asleep playing with her dolls.

Astarion feels an itchy sensation on his skin. The sunrise. 

When exactly was the last time he carried his daughter in his hands?

Astarion takes the book on dragons, puts it in the bag, and then lifts Alethaine up.

She grunts something but doesn’t wake up.

“Come on, let’s return home. Days are merciless and cruel for the creatures of the night,” he chuckles.

Alethaine feels almost weightless in his arms as he returns to the underground part of Daggrerlake. Soon Alethaine will leave them, he knows that. She is already preparing to become an adventurer, though he suspects she will spend another year under their roof. Seventeen years is such a short amount of time. 

But it’s her whole life.

Tiriel welcomes them in the yard and chuckles, seeing Alethaine fast asleep in his arms.

“Oh, I thought she was way too adult for that,” she smiles, opening the door. “Where was she?”

“The old graveyard.”

“Well, her favorite place in the town,” she whispers. “Right after the tavern where she frauds travelers with her fortune telling.”

Alethaine lacks any fortune-telling abilities except for good intuition. But strangers who stay at the inn owned by a family of dwarves don’t know that. They just see a very pale and mysterious-looking elf who is advertised to them as a witch. 

Once, a fighter who Alethaine told he would get a wife soon, returned to her angry and pissed because his attempt to matchmake a princess ended up with him being whipped in a town square. It’s probably the only time Astarion had to show up in the tavern during Alethaine’s shift. When he got there, Alethaine was crying and the fighter was threatening her with every awful thing a man can do to a young girl.

The fighter was deliciously scared when a vampire threw him against the wall and broke his dominant hand. Alethaine then told Astarion, no, she wasn’t crying, no she wasn’t afraid of that dumbass, she just got offended by all those mean words he told her.

But Astarion knew she was scared. She was scared like any girl her age after being threatened by a much larger and older man. The fighter begged Astarion to forgive him and he threw the moron at Alethaine’s legs, forcing him to beg her and, if she accepted his apologies, he would let him go. 

Alethaine didn’t forgive him (maybe she was just paralyzed with shock and fear) and that night Astarion dined on his blood. Besides, if the man could approach someone that young and casually tell her he was going to assault her, it probably meant he’d already done it to someone else. Or would in the next village.

Astarion puts Alethaine to her bed. He bitterly smiles, noting that there is no plushie toy or doll anymore that she liked so much barely a few years ago – only books, candles, and animal skulls she collects in the woods.

He also bitterly remembers that, in the very recent past, he could easily help her change clothes into the night dress. But this thing is forever out of reach for him. So, he just puts her boots off and places them in front of the bed.

“Sleep well, princess,” he murmurs, leaving the room.

“Heavy-sleeper!” Tiriel jokes standing in the inner yard. She cuts the wood for the fireplace and Astarion adores the sight of her wielding the ax.

“She is,” Astarion looks away.

She is seventeen. She will soon leave their home. She will live for centuries – and her childhood will be such a minor part of her life that it makes Astarion upset. He cherished every single day since she was born: her first step, her first word, the first time she saw the snow, the first time she went somewhere alone (she was five and Tiriel sent her to pick up herbs from the healer). The first book she read by herself. The first letter she wrote.

And now, there are also the last things.

The last time she slept in her parents’ bed – he remembers how she took her pillow and left them to return to her room. The last time he bathed her – and she looked so innocent and cute in the wooden tub full of soapy water. The last time he read her a book – it was a novel about unicorns and fey. He expected she would bring another one to read the next day, but, instead, he found Alethaine reading by herself. 

The last time he played dolls with her. The last time Tiriel brushed her long hair. The last time they played hide-and-seek in the woods. The last snowball fight.

All these things didn’t seem like the last when they did it, but they became one.

And Astarion knows that the fact he carried Alethaine to bed this day was a miracle. He will never do this ever again.

“Astarion, my love, what happened?” Tiriel’s fingers play with his hair. “Don’t tell me everything's right, I see you are upset!”

“Alethaine grew up too fast,” he admitted. “It’s not fair that elves live so long and yet their childhood is just slightly longer than humans.”

“I know, love. But she is an adult – and we need to see her like one, unless she wants to be occasionally treated like a child.”

Astarion places his head on Tiriel’s shoulder.

“I just… Damn… We both were children. Your childhood was hell and your mother was a bitch, but I don’t remember mine. You know, I just thought—” Astarion would sigh if he breathed. “There was a moment when I was carried to bed for the last time, too. And I can’t even remember who did it.”

Tiriel kisses his forehead — it’s a motherly gesture, not a lover’s one.

And then Astarion suddenly finds himself in Tiriel’s arms ‘bridal style’.

“Tiriel, put me back!”

“Why would I?” she laughs, holding him as if he were a young boy.

“I sometimes forget how strong you are,” he mutters, hoping no one sees them.

“It’s just your hollow elven bones. Though, I can lift human males up too!”

“I hope you don’t do this often because, otherwise, I will start getting possessive!”

“Or throw them in the mud after, don’t worry,” Tiriel kisses him, still holding Astarion as if he were weightless. 

“Ok, then, now you need to carry me to bed,” he pouts.

“I will gladly do that. And then, you will tell me how you want me to love you.”

“I will think on the way to the bedroom, my love.”

They both burst out in laughter.

**

A drake the size of a cat sneezes and burns the dandelions. Then, it looks up at Alethaine with guilt as if apologizing. 

“And can I ask where your owner is?” Alethaine murmurs. 

The drake sneezes again. Aurix – gold in Draconic – demonstrates its tummy to the dhampir and stretches like a kitten.

Alethaine takes a few more steps and finds herself in a beautiful green field full of grass and flowers. The wind makes waves on its surface and Alethaine feels that the night is slowly approaching.

A red-haired elf lies in the grass. Her red hair is messy – she’s been hunting the whole day. Her bow lies at her side. The freckled face is a bit suntanned and her ears twitch a bit as their owner wanders in her reverie.

“Tiri,” Alethaine leans to her sixteen-year-old daughter. “Let’s go home, dad worries you got lost.”

Tiri mutters something incomprehensible. She is young and her reverie is deep. As someone with very few memories to re-live, Tiriel Goldernoot, the only daughter of King Elren and his “witch-queen” Alethaine, probably sees only glimpses of her past lives mixed with human-like dreams.

Besides, her grandmother and namesake was half-human. So, Tiri’s dreams are much more vivid.

“Tiri, get up. If you don't, I will carry you myself.”

“It’s a manipulation, mum.”

“It is, so I see you are awake. Get up.” 

Tiri sits up, numb and dizzy after a reverie and she looks like someone beaten with a bag of sand. Alethaine helps her daughter to stand up and the drake immediately sits on her shoulder.

“Tired?” Alethaine asks.

“Ughm. I’ve been to Corellon’s grove.”

The biggest temple on the isle was ten miles away from Leuthilspar – the capital and Alethaine’s new home – no wonder the girl was so tired.

“I didn’t get inside, I just wanted to see the place from the hills.”

“Come on,” Alethaine takes her daughter’s hand and takes her home. 

“Mum,” she tells her, and Alethaine feels her daughter’s embarrassment. “May I ask— Though no, don’t bother, it’s stupid.”

“You want me to carry you?”

Tiri blushes and nods. They are the same height, mother and daughter, but Tiri is far from being a dhampir, and Alethaine can carry much heavier things than a young High Elf ranger. 

“But as long as no one sees us!” Tiri quickly adds.

“Don’t worry, no one will,” Alethaine promises and lifts her daughter up.

They walk like that for almost an hour. Tiri is exhausted and barely talks and Alethaine enjoys her loud heartbeat and deep breathing. When Tiri was born, Aletaine was suspiciously looking at the newborn baby. Was she a dhampir like her? Did the quote of vampiric blood affect her? Did Alethaine’s obsession with dark arts and demonic studies somehow hurt the child?

And then she remembers the realization. Tiri is as normal as possible. Just an elf. She wouldn’t grow fangs, she wouldn’t want blood, she wouldn’t accidentally reanimate a dead kitten and the druidic circles would never harm her. That moment Alethaine grabbed the newborn girl from her cradle, she came straight to Elren who was meditating in one of the many gardens of the elven castle and pushed Tiri into his arms. “Look at her!” Alethaine laughed as her half-asleep Thiramin was trying to realize what was going on. “She isn’t a creature of the night! The dark magic didn’t hurt her! She is normal! Like you!”

Alethaine catches the scent of other elves and puts Tiri on the ground. Now they walk through the streets like mother and daughter. Even though elves have different ideas of nobility and social structure than humans, Alethaine is still married to the king and she senses respect and fear from other elves (besides, they all know if it wasn't for her none of them would have made it alive after the demons had taken a hold on Faerun).

They needed the dark witch to deal with demons because druids don’t know what real darkness is.

“Hungry?” Alethaine asks.

“Like a vampire.”

“Interesting choice of words, Little Fire,'' Elren says sitting on the floor with yet another book about the ancient history of elves. Elren couldn’t care less about his status (“I’ve never asked to be crowned.”) and usually behaves as if he were still a ranger in the High Forest.

Tiri proceeds to tell her father how she marched through the hills, how Aurix almost ate a fey, and how she didn’t lose a single arrow while hunting birds. And then, she also saw portals to the Feywild but didn’t dare to approach them.

Alethaine walks up to the ceiling and stretches her arms – night is calling her. But she also feels the storm coming and decides she won’t leave the warm walls of the elven castle tonight.

When Tiri goes away to have dinner, Elren stands right below Alethaine. He is way taller than elves usually are and sometimes Alethaine feels very small in his presence. 

His hair is almost as long as Alethaine’s, but it has a golden shade. His eyes are light-blue and he wears intricate ear-cuffs as his only jewelry.

Elren reaches to rub her ear and Alethaine smiles like a content cat.

They met eighteen years ago, almost yesterday considering they are both older than three centuries. Alethaine hates all these sentimental and “star-crossing” things but, to be honest, she fell for the ranger elf the moment he showed up in her witch hut asking her to help him deal with the demons in the High Wood. Probably, the funniest thing for Alethaine is that Elren is so lawful, good, brave, kind, and generous, and is so much to her father’s liking he threatens to turn inside out anyone who wants to harm Elren.

Alethaine smiles, remembering their first encounter – Elren was captured by Drows and held in their torture chambers for a few weeks. Astarion got him out from there and by the time Aletaine found their small camp in the Underdark her father and husband-to-be were sharing stories of their adventures and laughing at the dumb Drows who didn’t expect a vampire to ambush them. 

Maybe Astarion saw Elren as a part of the world he once belonged to. Maybe, he just cared about him because Alethaine did. Maybe Astarion, despite his cynicism, still adores and respects people like Elren because they can do things he can’t. 

Besides, Alethaine knows her father fell for her mother. And Elren has a lot in common with his long-deceased mother-in-law. The same heroism. The same faith in the best. The same belief that says you should always negotiate first, but there is often a greater evil you should fight. 

“Elren, salen thiramin” Alethaine whispers.

“What?”

“Watch out.”

Alethaine relaxes her legs and falls from the ceiling right into her husband’s arms. 

“You know, one day I won’t be able to catch you, my queen!”

“Nonsense, my king, I trust you with my half-dead heart.”

They burst into laughter and their voices echo through the sun-lit rooms.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka  

@herstxrgirl 

@herdarkestnightelegance  

@vixstarria 

@not-so-lost-after-all  

@marcynomercy  

@theearthsfinalconfession 

@starlight-ipomoea    

@micropoe10 

@astarion-imagine-archive  

@veillsar

@elora-the-slutty-songstress  

@fayeriess  

@lumienyx  

@tallymonster    

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@ayselluna  

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@asterordinary  

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@my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen 

@queenofthespacesquids  

@ednaaa-04  

@dajeong

@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

[tighnarly]

Diluc and Children Head Canons

Trigger warning: Mention of compromising positions

Diluc would never admit that he wants kids.

But god the thought of filling you up and having little y/n halflings fills him with such joy.

One night you decide to mention that you want kids and while Diluc doesn't say much, that night he has you in several compromising positions to start the process and a month's worth of similar nights leads to you finding yourself pregnant.

You, knowing how bad Diluc really wanted kids despite his silence, know you have to tell him in a cute way. Unfortunately for you, Traveler and Paimon spy you purchasing a "world's best dad" shirt. If it was just Aether, you wouldn't have had a problem but we all know Paimon has a big mouth, she's speeding off to the bar faster than Aether can catch up to.

The minute Paimon tells him, Diluc is shutting down the Angel Share in celebration, claiming it a holiday and kicking everyone out and is rushing to meet you in excitement.

No one has ever seen him act this way. it even comes as a shock to you when you see him running at you in town and picking you right up swinging you around.

He's all over you, smothering you in kisses, a giant change from his usual lack of pda. You'd be a little let down that you didn't get to surprise him but you can't be too mad when he's the happiest you've ever seen him.

Every time you get pregnant Diluc is treating you like you're made of glass and you've never been more spoiled in your life. Before the baby is even in the oven for four months, you have everything you'll need for the first five years of the kid's life.

Diluc reminds you how beautiful you are carrying his kids or otherwise, he dotes on you constantly kissing every inch of you in appreciation and worship.

When the baby comes he's by your side holding your head, basically letting you crush it it with your grip. He's getting you ice chips and letting you curse him for the pain you're in. No matter the state you're in he still thinks you're the most beautiful creature to grace the planet.

Once you have the kid home, Diluc makes good on the best dad shirt.

He gets up at night to change them and rock them back asleep, soothes them, and does everything in his power to support you all financially, emotionally, mentally, and physically.

The minute your doctor clears you, Diluc is back at it again already wanting another baby.

It takes about 2 years for your next kid and it goes like that for all four of your kids.

Finally at four you tell him that you want to stop.

This makes him a little sad but he supports you above all else.

You and your kids never want for anything but Diluc and you still instill a great amount of work ethic and human decency in your kids, all of them have such joy and energy but they also have the manners and respect for others that make other parents jealous.

Eventually when they've grown you both start to feel empty nest syndrome and it gets to be too much to bare so you settle on adopting two more kids, siblings at the ages of 10 and fifteen.

They don't trust you both at first but eventually between the love you pour into them and the doting they get not only from the bot of you but from Kaeya and their older adopted children, you grow on them and they learn to love you.

Both your blood and adopted family blend together and you all love each other more than anything.

You and all your kids would do anything for each other and anything for DIluc.

[the-solitary-child]

Kipperlily Copperkettle analysis, this is a long one so click read more to read all of it.

Kipperlily Copperkettle. Halfling Rogue. 

The Model Minority.

Her parents work good jobs, respectable jobs. One of them is a realtor, they are charismatic and good with words and they work hard. Hard for their family, hard to keep things in order. The other works in bastion city, away from home and with the council of chosen. A noble job, one that is met with praise and awards. It is a good job, a respectable job for the greater good.

Her family is good. Her family is picture perfect, with two parents and a kid and a white picket fence.

She must be perfect, for her sake, for her parents sake. Halflings are kind. Halflings are sweet. They get along with everyone. They are peacemakers, so much so that humans and elves could come and take solace from them. Years of bloody history and violence brews in her veins, and she is supposed to be complicit and smile and act kind. She does so for her parents sake, with a slicked back ponytail and a perfect uniform and a smile too big, too unnerving.

I’m sure people tried to dissuade her, telling her that she wouldn't find more comfort in something different? Maybe a job as a clerk or a secretary, or an artificer so she could help build things for people. She has her mind set though, with her nails digging into her palms to control the bitter rage that boils in her as she is only ever underestimated. 

High school starts and it's supposed to be a new beginning. She will find her party, and she will make friends. And she does, sort of. The High Five heroes she calls them, setting herself up as the leader. She has to take control of everything. They don't really listen to her though. Oisin and Ivy are immediately their own little duo, as are Ruben and Lucy, although Lucy has made a point to include Kipperlily too, and Mary Ann just acts uninterested in everything thus far. She has to make sure everything is perfect. A fight happens during the first day of school. It results in two students death, and makes the principle commit murder suicide on both himself and the counselor in order to bring two students back. Maybe that's where it started, the jealousy and the burning hatred and the obsession. Maybe it started a little earlier that day, when Riz handed out his business cards, and Kipperlily took it. Saw his name, maybe even wanted to be friends at first. Maybe he was too busy with the case of missing penny luckstone, maybe he was too busy with the friends that seemed to care about him. Maybe Kipperlily was jealous that his party actually cared about him, whilst hers only tolerated her at best.

I think that's where it started. The jealousy, the obsession. Her anger got worse, nails digging into skin and drawing blood. She is just so angry. She has always been angry, rage and spite boiling in her blood. Her parents said she came into the world not crying but screaming, like existing in this very world hurt her. She studied him. She learnt everything about him as the year went on and she felt shame. Burning, red shame. She started seeing the new counselor in hopes of getting help. She knew this wasn't normal. She was just so angry and had nothing to do with all this rage and fury. So she talked about it, how she was jealous of him. How he got the perfect adventurers story, a dead dad and a party full of people who cared. Her parents were normal. They were perfect, blended in perfectly. They were kind and sweet and polite and possibly never home because they have busy jobs. Busy respectable jobs. They were respectable people and nothing more because the world would never allow them to be anything more.

One way or another, Porter hears of a halfling rogue with rage in her veins. One way or another he approaches her, tells her that he will help her. He sees her potential, he sees just how great she can be. Kipperlily believes him. She trains with him, learning from him, hooked on to every word of praise he gives her. She is special, she is meant for something great, this school is just unfair and hands out blatant favoritism and she has to stop it. 

Kipperlily takes the rage star, lets it fall into her chest and every petty grudge, jealousy and dislike simply turns to wrath and hatred. She gets her party to join her too, leveling them up with the help of porter and jace. She kills them. She stands over their bodies as rage stars are forced onto their chests. As their corpses are violated and they are brought back just as angry as she has always been. Kipperlily feels no guilt, this is what she is meant to do Porter tells her. She is meant to bring greatness.

Lucy is the only one who doesn't come back. That hurts her, in a way different to anything she has ever felt. Lucy always had her back, always had her side when the party was ganging up on her. Lucy was the only one who understood what it was like to be put down and underestimated. But..she stayed dead. She decided being dead was better than being with her. 

Kipperlily tries to move on but sorrow and rage just burn deep within her.

The rest is history. But one thing is clear, rage has always festered in the heart of Kipperlily, and when she tried to get help, when shame burned in her veins at how childish her rage and jealousy was, she was failed by the people she was supposed to trust. Her rage was used as a weapon, both against her and against others. She was told she would do great things, that she is special and her spite and jealousy was used in order to get her to do things had her teachers not failed her, maybe she wouldn't have done.

Kipperlily will forever have the blood of her friends, of her party members, on her hands. She will never get rid of that shame, it will stain her hands, it will stain her legacy. She is nothing more than a villain in the history books now, when in reality she was a teenage girl who was failed over, and over again. She was a teenage girl who felt rage, and felt ashamed of her rage because she was told she needed to be kind, complicit. A sweet halfling girl, something she never was and never will be. 

[utilitycaster]

did you have any more thoughts about the "going down equals a level of exhaustion" house rule for 5e? a group I'm involved in is considering adding it, and though I've strenuously argued against it, the retort seems to be that a good healer would be spending those spells anyway, so the healbot concern is irrelevant. As the person playing the healer in the group I'd be leaving if they choose to implement it, but I'd like to give it one more good argument before I pull that card.

So my arguments here are somewhat subjective and I think gain efficacy if you are willing to gently but firmly say "I would leave this group over this choice," at this time.

My first one is a pretty basic one. For all the complaints people have about it, I actually find D&D 5e is pretty balanced, rules as written. Sure, there are rules I ignore, but most of those are like...very finicky little things (eg: small creatures not being able to use heavy weapons; it's not like halflings have such great racial abilities that you must nerf them by not letting them use a warhammer) and not core elements of gameplay. It was pretty thoroughly playtested as is. I think DMs who try to play with this kind of thing tend to be either be people who are struggling with a way to make encounters more dangerous but haven't used the (RAW) tools at their disposal; or are the sort of people I've described before who are incapable of enjoying something unless they can figuratively pee on it to mark their territory. The former is fixable; the latter type can change but it tends to have to come from within. Though I will say: Rusty Quill Gaming's Unconscious Rule was that you get a scar (no mechanical penalties unless you want) whenever you're knocked unconscious. It was purely a story thing, but if your DM is just itching to homebrew something in order to carve their initials onto the tree of D&D instead of leaving well enough alone, that might be a way to let them feel like they've homebrewed something relating to unconsciousness.

The second one is that there's multiple approaches to healing! I do tend to be a fairly proactive healer when I play one, but letting people go down is a valid strategy. Plus, shit happens! People roll really badly or the DM rolls really well or you roll all 1s on your healing dice and bam, they're unexpectedly out. It puts an undue burden on the healer not just in terms of pushing them towards a very specific playstyle, but at high levels pushes them to burn extra 5th levels (and diamond dust) on Greater Restoration). It also simultaneously makes it perhaps advantageous to not heal someone who's gone down. If they go unconscious and you're not able to heal them up beyond what they're likely to lose in another round, maybe it's better to leave them making death saves (or do Spare the Dying) so that they don't have two levels of exhaustion...but then they might die. It's a really screwy thing because the game isn't fucking balanced for this because it's stupid. It also can push the party into the One Combat Per Day behavior that has been rightfully criticized.

And finally, tying back to both of the above, there's a reason why going unconscious doesn't kill people in D&D and that's because it makes for a good story! It adds drama and tension, but you don't lose the character. This both penalizes you for allowing that drama to happen and ratchets the tension to a level that isn't really fun.

Another thing I'd add is to ask why specifically they want to add it because if someone says "it's more realistic," for example, you have my permission to say "in the pretend to be an elf wizard game?" and make a jerk-off motion. You may want to tone that down if you wish to part on good terms but like, for real, if they want a more realistic game, perhaps they should find one. I'm not a Pathfinder person myself but I would never begrudge other people from playing it in their own homes and I think PF1e (or an older version of D&D) and its less generous overnight healing might be worth your while. Perhaps exploring another system would be the better option. I think people who wander around the internet whining about how other people play D&D are sad losers, but they do have a point that if you're tinkering with core rules (as opposed to like, homebrewing a race, class/subclass, item, spell, feat, or monster) that's a sign you should probably look for another game.

So with all that said: I think it's fair to point out a (more tactful) version of all of the above but also say "I feel, as the healer, this would make my role a lot less fun, and I would leave this group over this choice." If you say it politely and calmly it may make your DM realize how much you dislike it. That doesn't mean they won't barrel ahead anyway, because people have free will and whatnot, but in a social situation, sometimes logical arguments aren't helpful! Sometimes it's better to just say "I've said why I don't like this, and I hope we can find a compromise, but ultimately you can do what you want; I can also do what I want, and I don't want to be here if you disregard my input on something that affects my enjoyment."

[themadlu]

Astarion's Star Elf Background Headcanons

In collaboration with the lovely @spacebarbarianweird!

A bit of a less popular take on Astarion’s background headcanons—I know it is generally accepted that he is originally a moon elf from the Faerunian upper class, but, between in-game trivia and developing my own stories, a different idea came up. 

I’ll outline why I think the Star Elf headcanon fits the sassy elf, and how it plays into his storyline.

Obviously, this is all done for the shits and giggles, so every headcanon is valid, and I’d love to hear about different takes on Astarion’s origins!

Race: Star Elves

Star Elves, or Ruar-tel-quessir, have only recently returned to Faerun due to repeated attacks by an extra-planar entity on their home-realm of Sildëyuir. 

Because of their prolonged absence and reclusive communities, Star Elves are not familiar with most of Toril’s customs and history. In Sildëyuir, they had no contact with most other species (such as humans, dwarves, halflings, gnomes, etc.), and they prefer to keep to themselves once in Faerun too. 

They are particularly wary of humans, as their misuse of magic and warmongering tendencies were what caused Star Elves to flee Toril in the first place. 

They consider themselves better than most other races, only getting along with other elves. They fear for Moon Elves and half-elves who mix with other species, and they consider them overly-generous and too naive. 

As such, Star Elves tend to come across as aloof and cautious. (I know this may not sound like Astarion at all, but bear with me).

Their moral alignment is purely chaotic, with a majority of them being in the chaotic good or neutral categories. 

Physically, Star Elves share some traits with their fellow Moon Elves: light skin (check) and gold, red or silver (check) hair. 

However, Star Elves have grey or violet-coloured eyes with gold flecks in them (imagine an Astarion with violet eyes!).

Star Elves are also taller than other elves, standing between 5½ to 6 ft tall, with a slender build.

They are also considered extremely beautiful by human standards, much more so than any other type of elf. 

Astarion’s Background as a Star Elf:

Right, let’s talk about objective things first: physicality. 

Astarion fits the Star Elf type quite well: 

He has silver hair, light skin (given he is still the palest of the bunch even after he is well fed).

He fits the height range at 5 ft 9.

He has a slender body (a bit too built for an elf, but that is likely Larian knowing what sells),

Most importantly, he is strikingly handsome. Exceedingly so, more than most other elves in the game. 

As there is no confirmation about pre-vampirism eye colour, in my head he used to have violet eyes. I think that would have made him stand out in Baldurian society even more. 

Which gets me to the more subjective part of personality and backstory. 

Aloof and cautious may not be the first qualities that come to mind thinking of Mr Sass, but work with me. 

Someone aloof is not overly friendly, being cool and distant instead. Is Astarion friendly? I mean, genuinely friendly to people, and not forcing himself to look eager because he is forced to do so by Cazador or by circumstances? 

He threatens Tav as soon as they meet, is snarky with everyone else for a good portion of Act 1 (and with some even during Act 2 and 3), and at the end of game party he keeps mostly to himself.

Ultimately, Tav is the only one he seems comfortable enough to be open and friendly with, and that requires a lot of trust, care and work (especially for good-aligned Tavs). 

As for the cautious side, he is a bloodthirsty little shit who loves a good fight, but he doesn’t strike me as someone who would throw himself into desperate situations (without proper compensation at least). 

He disapproves of Tav doing things for free or forcing him into situations where the risks are too great, often stating that ignoring those needing help is the easiest thing, they just need to ‘look away and keep walking’. 

His inherent racism towards other races (ehem, gnomes) can be a result of spending his early years in a very secluded environment.

He presents himself as someone loving life luxuries, but I think that's his Baldur's Gate, more constructed persona. He seems just as happy to fondle about in the dirt TWICE, despite claiming he is not used to it. Maybe he's not as upper class as he wants to appear.

Granted, these traits may be a result of him being a glorified sex slave subject to unimaginable torture for 200 years, but I think his need to be have the upper hand in power dynamics existed before his undeath too.

The chaotic nature is evident, and I headcanon he starts off as chaotic neutral, starts leaning into the evil side as he gets corrupted by power first and by abuse after, then he can either get back to chaotic neutral with a good-aligned companion or become fully chaotic evil as the Ascendant. 

And this leads me to the actual backstory.

Astarion’s Backstory:

Larian originally set Astarion out to be a noble, then changed his background to charlatan and, in some lost character sheet, courtesan (fancy type of prostitute). I’ll stick with the final charlatan/courtesan version. 

Astarion was born somewhere in Faerun in a community of Star Elves. 

His family was of poor background, having fallen out with the leaders of the enclave.

That, paired with the isolation of the community, prompted Astarion to leave his home in his early 20s, slightly earlier than usual for elves. 

He wanted more from life than being stuck in a reclusive society and being looked down upon from others. He wanted to live a comfortable existence, be wealthy, be admired, and to achieve that he needed one thing: power. 

He headed to Baldur’s Gate (convincing fellow travellers to let him on their carts, horses, etc.) with nothing more than the clothes on his person, attracted by its reputation as a multicultural hub brimming with opportunities. He did forge some documents proving he already had some basic qualification to enter law school (not sure reclusive elves issue any), completed his studies and started a career as magistrate. 

During this time, he quickly realised how his looks were one of his biggest strengths in forging alliances. He had been complimented before, but most Star Elves are beautiful, so he was not as universally admired as he was in Baldur’s Gate. He used and abused this knowledge, flirting with individuals from many other races (gnomes aside, he has standards) and genders, enjoying the perks his smooth persona got him (money, status, promotions) and revelling in the adulation of his admirers.

He became even more power hungry, signing laws because they would benefit him or his upper class acquaintances rather than the general population. He was ready to do anything to achieve his goals. 

It was in one of the many soirees he attended that he came across Cazador (or rather, Cazador noticed him). The Vampire Lord saw an astonishingly handsome, young and inexperienced elf who could work most people around his manicured slim fingers and immediately singled him out. Studied him. I don’t think he introduced himself before turning him; rather, he gathered information about him via his connections and learned he was an up and coming magistrate, an outsider, conveniently with no family or stable relationships who would miss him or go look for him should he disappear. 

We know Cazador is a machiavellian villain, so he probably found a way to convince Astarion (through a bribe and pulling at his dislike of lower class vagrants) into signing a law forcibly evicting the Gur from the land they settled on, on the basis of it belonging to some patriar or noble and therefore their permanence being illegal. Cazador knew retaliation would be swift, and I bet he probably even had someone tell the Gur which magistrate had them kicked out. 

Cazador waited nearby while Astarion was being brutally assaulted, chasing off the Gur thugs to claim his prized future spawn. He didn’t need permission to bite Astarion and turn him, but he asked likely because he knew he would never turn down a chance at eternal life and because it would be another way to torment him later (‘Remember boy, I gave you the grace of my gift, you begged for it!’). Probably, Astarion’s last words as a living elf were, ‘Do…any…thing…please’. 

After becoming a spawn and suffering centuries of abuse, Astarion forgot about his past, himself and his family. He doesn’t even remember what type of elf he is (Moon or Star). His parents may still be alive, but with their life being secluded from the outside world, it is unlikely he will come across them in their lifetime.