#high road dnd

[operationslipperypuppet]

Funniest possible thing Brennan could do to Riz is counterspell him with a sticker

[biff-adventurer]

the other day my friend noticed i had put biff in the belt top and off handedly mentioned it was part of the mad max gear

today i saw a post that called the bubble the "levindome" and i was like. are you fucking kidding me. WELCOME TO THE THUNDER DOME OH MY GOD THE ENTIRE THING IS A MAD MAX REFERENCE

[im-a-wizard-dammit]

"My name is Eclipse. But most people just call me... the High Kage."

--NPC Snoop Dogg

[ifbrd]

A little while ago I saw online someone had made a DND character sheet for Ford Pines. In the ability scores area, they had intelligence as the highest (makes sense), and strength as one of the lowest (fair enough)

But then they had wisdom as second highest and dexterity as second lowest, and I gotta say, I think those two need to be flipped

I mean let’s start with dexterity. Now I’m not an expert on DND by any means so apologies if I am misunderstanding dexterity here, but others have pointed out that Ford spent his entire adulthood chasing after and/or running from paranormal creatures. I guess I just feel like he has to have high dexterity for him to have even survived all those years.

Also this

But wisdom being low is where I feel most strongly.

I wouldn’t be the first to point out that Ford, while highly intelligent, completely lacks common sense.

People have noted that the safety measures for turning the portal on and off should have been reverse, that the portal shouldn’t have been that easy to turn on by accident and yet it required at least two people to turn it off.

He keeps an infinity die in a “cheap plastic case”

He gives a 12 year old a cross bow

He gives another 12 year old a mind control tie and tells him to “use it responsibly”

He takes Dipper out on several missions that were probably too dangerous for him, refer to the magnet gun above, where Dipper, if he didn’t do it right, could have fallen to his death, and Ford also took him on the mission to shoot Bill for …some reason???? Leave the 12 year old at home when you go kill god to save the world from the current apocalypse! Why do I even need to say that??? Also “don’t worry I’ve been down here countless times and all the aliens are dead…probably”

As I recall, “Bill proofing the shack” was his first line of defense and “Bill proof our minds” was “the next best thing” …shouldn’t those be reversed??? You gotta leave the shack at some point????

According to journal 3, Ford was the one who encouraged Stan to take the kids on a road trip RIGHT AFTER BILL PROOFING THE SHACK, which completely defeats the purpose of doing that in the first place.

I’ve pointed this out before, “Mabel will be fine! I watched her become pen pals with the pizza delivery man in the 15 seconds he was at the door!” … Ford…that’s creepy has hell, keep that pizza delivery man away from your niece!”

When weirdmageddon started he wrote in his journal????? And drew a lovely little detailed image?????

See that little greenish sticky note at the top? That’s my little note that says “when did you have time to write this?????” Seriously what. “It’s the end of the world…i gotta draw this and write a little entry on it before I save everyone!!!” It’s the drawing that really gets me. Okay write a note in case someone else has to take over but WHY THE DRAWING

And finally, everyone is holding hands at the Cipher Wheel. Stan is essential and is refusing to join unless Ford thanks him for saving him. Ford reluctantly does so. It’s now clear that Stan is willing to put everyone, Dipper and Mabel included, at risk just because he wants a thank you, so Ford decides this is a really good time to CORRECT STAN’S GRAMMAR

Look I say this with love but,

Ford may be the smartest people in the room but he’s also the biggest dumbass in the room. This man has no wisdom.

[littledeadling]

You probably know by now that I’m quite taken with my DND character, Horatio. In this post I’m going to explain him (with pictures!!) so you can enjoy him too, and follow along with his story if you want!

~~~~

Let’s start with the man himself:

~Horatio Ignatius Heronwillow III~

Horatio is a human paladin knight following the Oath of Glory. Also, he’s a pompous bitch with an ego the size of a small country.

Horatio’s character arc is all about getting humbled over and over again. Maybe he’s not the best. He’s not even second best. Maybe he’s even…pathetic. Despite all his training? His many successful battles? His prestige? What does any of that matter if his Queen doesn’t trust him to be her champion? If the Queen doesn’t even like him?

Horatio is from the nation of Thrane. He introduces himself as “the gilded knight of Fort Light, first at her majesty’s royal table.” He’s an ardent follower of the Queen, even though she’s merely a figurehead—the Church of the Silver Flame holds all the power. He is considered weird for this. His family are all noble elitists, and their support for him is conditional. Even though he’s become such a high-ranking knight, he’s never good enough.

But we can’t truly discuss Horatio until we meet his nemesis/rival/best friend/worst enemy (who he’s totally obsessed with, and who happens to be a centaur). His name is Elethar Sigrún.

Elethar came to the castle when they were both young (for ~unknown reasons~), and they trained to be knights alongside each other. Despite being the only centaur in the kingdom and not of royal birth, Elethar immediately usurped Horatio as the Queen’s most promising young knight, thus beginning a lifelong rivalry.

Does Horatio have feelings for Elethar? Not that he’s aware of. This is because he is stupid. Does Elethar feel anything for Horatio (besides pity and disdain)? Unclear!

~The Dragonshard Derby~

Now that we’ve met our hero, lets turn to the story!

The players are all entrants in The Dragonshard Derby: a mounted cross-continent race hosted by a rich and famous duke. To the winner goes the spoils: a great dragon’s hoard, and glory for their chosen nation. Obviously, Horatio is racing for Thrane. One hundred contestants are participating, riding everything from regular horses to owlbears to dinosaurs (dinosaurs are normal in Eberron 😳).

Horatio’s mount is a golden Akhal-Teke horse named Marvellous Moondance. She’s the light of his life. Despite his competitive nature, he would never push her past her limits. He puts her safety above all else.

Much to his chagrin, Elethar is also running in the race. Apparently the Queen had a special, secret mission for him, which she didn’t tell Horatio about. He persuades Elethar to confide: there’s an artefact rumoured to be among the dragon’s hoard that the Queen desires. Neither of them are sure what it is. Horatio promises that if he encounters it, he will give it to Elethar.

~The World of Eberron~

The campaign is set in a world called Eberron. The road is dangerous! We’ll be journeying though many different terrains, including the Mournland, a desolate wasteland which was once a great nation. Less than five years ago, during the war, a white fog filled the nation of Cyre from border to border and killed everyone inside. The cause of this was unknown, but it led to a tenuous end to the fighting. Horatio and Elethar were both on the front lines when it happened. They witnessed people across the border dying in agony. Horatio still has nightmares.

The Dragonshard Derby is the first time since then that the other nations have come together to put the past behind them in friendly sport. Evaluators will be watching from airships to make sure there's no foul play, though their vision is limited whenever racers are passing through the woods. Any teleportation is strictly prohibited.

~The Race So Far~

Each leg of the race begins with a sprint. In the first sprint, Horatio finished first in his section, but 11th overall. Elethar placed actually first, and gave Horatio polite congratulations once the scores had been posted. Horatio was pissed. This was supposed to be his chance to prove himself to the Queen! Why did Elethar have to be here and show him up? He ruins everything! And he’s so effortless about it, too. He never loses his composure, ever. Horatio wishes he could be like that.

During the first leg (a multi-day ride through the forest and plains), two riders were murdered under mysterious circumstances. Both had placed within the top ten. Their belongings had been trashed, searched through. As frustrated as Horatio was with Elethar’s presence, he’s now more just worried for his well-being. After all, Elethar is racing alone.

Then, when Horatio’s party was still a day’s ride away from the second sprint, something strange happened.

While fighting off a band of raiders, the world suddenly froze for Horatio. A strange light appeared in the sky, drawing him towards it. The moment he touched it, he felt something write itself into the skin of his arm. A mysterious lantern appeared in his bag, glowing with ethereal purple light. It would later become clear that the lantern will always appear back in Horatio’s bag, no matter where he leaves it. And, he discovered, he now has access to new magics that he was previously incapable of. This was all VERY ALARMING.

Anyway, back to Horatio’s arm. Something important in Eberron is the concept of dragonmarks. There are twelve great Dragonmarked Houses (basically powerful mob families) which each share a unique dragonmark- a sigil that appears somewhere on the body at puberty and grants powerful magic. There are also aberrant dragonmarks, which is when a combination of two other sigils appears on someone not from a Dragonmarked House (usually when there have been mixed relations between Houses). There’s a lot of political baggage attached. And Horatio suddenly has one, at the ripe age of 35. To make matters worse, it’s not a normal dragonmark OR a known aberrant, but something entirely new.

He chose not to tell his party anything about this.

Then, it was time for the sprint to the next checkpoint. Horatio started strong, but again, Elethar swept in and beat him right at the finish line. He congratulated Horatio on the race. Embarrassing him further, Elethar presented Horatio with this letter he had just received from the queen:

Sir Elethar Sigrún, First Knight to Queen Diani ir’Wynarn My earnest congratulations on placing first on the primary leg of this great race. I would expect nothing less of my finest knight. Of course, you are missed at the castle, but I am honoured by the diligence with which you have chosen to pursue the purpose I have set out for you. I am sure that you will earn the respect of the kingdom, should you succeed, and I am pleased to hear of your success so far. It will be essential that you continue to maintain this position, else my favour lies elsewhere. Loyal Elethar, I wish you great fortune, and may the blessing of the Silver Flame be upon you. Her Majesty, Queen Diani ir’Wynarn PS. Please tell Sir Heronwillow I am being informed of his standing in the race as well.

…Crushing.

He’d been considering telling Elethar of his troubles, but after that he was too upset to broach the subject.

Now that they’ve made it to the checkpoint, there are official tents with beds for everyone (with sleeping arrangements decided by race standing), a small market, and a mess hall with dinner provided.

During the meal, a friendly fellow racer named Ash attempted to flirt with one of Horatio’s party members, offering him a strange glowing flower he’d found nearby. Horatio immediately recognized it as being similar to his lantern. When his teammate turned down the flower, Horatio asked if he could have it. Ash took this the wrong way. He let Horatio know he was really, super not his type, and would not be giving him the flower. Double ouch.

That night (in the dead of it), a pack of wild raptors invaded the tents where the racers were sleeping. The party managed to kill them before they hurt anyone, but Horatio detected that the animals were all under an enchantment. Their real purpose had been to attempt to steal the flower and take it... somewhere. To someone. Was this what the killers from the first leg had been seeking? None of it bodes very well for Horatio!

The next evening, Horatio dragged Elethar to the edge of the camp where they could not be overheard, and nervously confided in him. The dragonmark, the lantern—everything. He was a bundle of nerves, but… It went well! Elethar was very alarmed, and told Horatio not to let ANYONE else find out. Not even the Queen. Especially not the Queen. Horatio was equal parts thrilled by Elethar’s willingness to share a secret with him, and terrified to keep anything hidden from the woman who basically controls his life. I drew a comic about this conversation. It was too good of a scene not to draw. 🫣)

Well, that’s where we left off last session! Thanks so much for reading, and meeting my guy! I love him and I hope you like him too! 💖

Stay tuned for a little intro post about the rest of the party! :•) I’ll link that here as well!

To be continued! (Probably in a month or so)

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

[djarincore]

The Object of My Desire

SUMMARY: You're a hardworking scholar and the spoiled daughter of a corrupt nobleman.

The mercenary hired for your protection is more than willing to take your father's money, just not your bratty attitude. Luckily, he's got a few ways to deal with spoiled little girls like you.

PAIRING: fighter!price x wizard!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

TAGS: DND!au, porn with some plot, f masturbation, dirty talk, cunnilingus, he bends you over a desk, PIV, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight breath play, creampie, slight jealously, reader gets called a bitch (not by Price but he does call you a brat whoops)

A/N: this is just a silly little idea that popped into my head while I tried learning more about DND! I actually rolled some dice to make some decisions/outcomes and it made the writing experience way more fun 10/10 recommend

Winter’s gray sky cast a torrent of rain against the cobblestone roads and blew frigid winds through the streets of Moongarde. Despite the relentless weather, citizens continued to migrate towards the town's center in attendance for the annual Heroes Feast. 

You clutched your cloak tighter against your chest as you weaved through the crowds of people heading in the opposite direction. There were more important things to deal with than a stupid celebration—like the supposed danger you were in.

Having a father who enjoyed making enemies in high places certainly made your life interesting. Though, the threats on your life were, frankly, a nuisance. You had much better things to do than worry about silly threats from cowardly, old men. But, your father worried; he worried enough to hire a mercenary to guard you. 

You hoped he wasn't old and boring like the last one you chased away. Any guard who succumbed to simple illustory spells like fear weren't worth the gold your father spent. 

Ahead, a hanging sign swung forward in the wind. Carved into the wood was a crow perched on a branch, staring off beyond the borders of its design. The Ivory Crow—a dingy, little establishment you loathed to enter. 

With a grimace, you made your way up the creaking wooden stairs. Already, you could hear rowdy, clamorous songs and bellowing voices seeping through the cracks of its shabby, wooden walls. 

Before you could reach out to push open the swinging doors, they burst open and a man stumbled out, his weight nearly toppling onto you. 

“S’rry ‘bout tha’, m’ss,” he slurred, hiccuping as he ended his sentence. He grabbed onto one of the doors to steady himself, though he still swayed. 

“Move,” you demanded. His body blocked half the entrance and you weren’t interested in squeezing past him. He was covered in stains, presumably sweat and booze from the acrid smell of him. 

He lifted his head towards you, eyes half-lidded. “Hey, don’ tell me wha’ ta do,” he hissed. 

You rolled your eyes and raised a finger towards the man. The familiar warmth of magic pooled at your fingertip and was dispelled when you tapped his forehead.

He crumpled to the ground, eyes closed with his chest still rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. 

You wiped your finger against your velvet cloak and stepped over the unconscious body into the tavern. 

The inside was warmly lit by a large candle chandelier hanging from the tall rafters and more candles decorating tables. No one in the tavern seemed to have noticed your exchange. They were all absorbed in their own ideas of fun. 

A dwarven bard strummed her lute on top of a table, singing an unfamiliar tune and absorbing the adoring applause of drunken patrons who chimed in off-key. Couples, locked in heated embraces, cozied themselves to dimly lit corners of the tavern. 

If it wasn’t singing or lovers, there was plenty of conversation floating through the air to distract from anything outside. 

Your eyes scanned the tavern’s edge, looking for a lone figure at one of the tables. 

The mercenary gave your father instructions for you to find him at the Ivory Crow. Look for a bear on the pommel of his sword, your father had said.

In the far corner of the room, you finally spoted a vaguely familiar figure matching your idea of him, sitting on a stool with his back facing the wall and nursing a pint of ale between his hands. His eyes were downcast as he stared at the overflowing foam sliding down the metal pint. 

He seemed to be the only lone figure in the tavern, everyone else was joined by at least one other companion. 

His attire was shades of muted green and brown, darkened by grime and dirt. A sword tucked in its scabard leaned against the table. The pommel bore the crest of a roaring bear head.

You approached swiftly, maneuvering your way past the overflowing tables filled with patrons and stumbling drunks trying to get to the bar. 

When you reached the mercenary, you stood at the edge of his table. His gaze lifted from his drink to you. Blue eyes met yours.

He wasn't as old as your last guard, and he certainly wasn't as boring to look at. 

There was no surprise on his face as he looked at you, no glimmer of recognition; his stern countenance gave away nothing of his thoughts. His gaze was almost intense, discerning, and calculating.

You broke eye contact first to look down at the round stool opposite him. It had a spot of liquid on the edge that made you grimace. 

All the other surrounding chairs looked occupied. So, you dug through your leather bag and pulled a purple cloth from it. 

You wordlessly conjured up a spectral blue hand and offered up the cloth for it to wipe away the liquid. The hand dried up the liquid and deposited the cloth on the table before vanishing.

The mercenary had crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall to watch you, legs spread wide. Inquisitive eyes followed as you took a seat, back stiff with hands tucked into your cloak, clutching it tighter to your body as if it were shielding you.  

“Ser Jonathan Price, correct?” 

He nodded once and said nothing. 

You fished a hefty pouch from your leather bag and tossed it towards him. The platinum pieces inside rattled as they hit the table. 

His eyes fell to the bag for a moment, then slid back up to you, not attempting to reach for the pouch. 

Maybe he was unimpressed. 

“There's your payment for today—one hundred platinum pieces,” you stated and cleared your throat. “Now, the rules for this arrangement are simple: protect me and stay out of my way.”

You think he understood. He didn't say anything otherwise. There was a slight twitch in your eye when he tilted his head like he was looking at an amusing, little oddity. 

After another moment his arms unfurled and a hand reached out for the pouch. He cradled it in his palm, hefting it for its weight. The coins rattled. When he pushed two fingers into the closed seam and spread it open, you scoffed.

“If you think I'm lying, don't. Your coin is there.” You crossed your arms, in an attempt to be as nonplussed as he was—it was a poor attempt. You couldn't help the frown that stuck to your lips. 

He removed his fingers from the pouch and rapped his knuckles down hard against the wooden table twice, making you flinch and catching the attention of a passing barmaid. 

Their exchange was quick. She turned her head toward him with a bright smile, flirty even as her eyes roamed down his figure. He pointed a finger down at his pint and flicked his wrist up to call for one more. She nodded and flitted back to the bar. 

“Easy enough,” he said when he turned back to you. His voice was smoky, low. Probably caused by too many cigarettes and shouting. He rested his forearms on the table, one hand still gripped around the pouch. “But drop the ser, m’ not a knight.”  

Your brows furrowed. You recalled the description your father gave you of him. A knight who served under the King’s banner for twenty years. “But you’re-” 

“I was,” he interrupted firmly, leaving you with no room to argue. 

Your mouth remained open, wanting to bite back, but when his brow raised slightly at the hint of a challenge, you clenched your jaw. Any attempt to delve further into the topic would only prove futile and a waste of time. 

You took in a deep breath through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “Fine,” you acquiesced. “How do I address you then?”

“John’s good enough for me."

“Okay, John,” you ground out and stood from your seat. “I want to leave before nightfall.” 

He held his hand up, stopping you in your place. “We're not going anywhere yet, love.” 

You bristled at both the nickname and his order. The arrangement was supposed to be the other way around. You give him orders and he follows. 

“Sit, drink—I already bought you a mug.”  

On cue, the barmaid returned to the table with another overflowing pint in her hand and set it down on your side. She wiped her hand down on her apron and looked at John, her charming smile returning. “Anythin’ else I can getcha?”

“No, thank you.” He returned her smile with a grin of his own. He dug into the pouch and pulled out a platinum piece, setting it in her outstretched hand. 

Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “This is too much! The drinks are only ten silver!”

You crossed your arms and interjected, “I agree. That's far too much.” 

“Keep it,” he assured, waving her off. 

The barmaid scurried away with an even wider smile than you thought possible. Her hair and skirt bounced as she went. 

With her gone, he turned his attention back to you and gestured back to your stool. “Drink with me.”

The foam dribbling down the sides of the metal pint made you grimace. You didn't drink ale; it wasn't to your taste. You preferred the rich, sweet taste of Evermead. 

But, another part of you was tempted, not by cheap ale. It was the mercenary, the ex-knight, Jonathan Price. Stern to you, yet kind to the barmaid. Silent but still expressive. You felt the tug of curiosity, the desire to learn everything about this stranger and unfold his secrets. 

You sat, watching as he took his ale and the bob of his throat as he drank. 

He set down his drink, now half full, and nodded his head toward your mug. “Don't be shy, love. Go on.” 

Your hand snuck out from your cloak and grasped the handle, cold and slightly sticky. Slowly, to not spill, you lifted the mug and took a sip. Cold liquid slid down your throat. The ale was bitter, watered down, and made your mouth twist with disgust. 

“That bad, eh?” He chuckled. You were alarmed to find his low, raspy chuckle disarming. Surely, the ale hadn't got to your head already.

You set the mug down, pushing it further away with your fingers, and wiped your lips clean of any foam left behind with the back of your hand. “I can't believe you like this.”

“Oh, I don't like this garbage.” He laughed, grabbing his mug once more. His thumb idly ran down the handle, throwing a glance out to the crowded tavern. “Just drinking to pass the time.”

“Surely there are better taverns to drink in.” You glanced around at the rowdy patrons once more. Two men were standing toe to toe at the table across from you, exchanging heated words. 

When he failed to respond, you tried following his eye. It led you to the opposite side of the room toward the barmaid who served you earlier tending to a group of adventurers. She pressed her hip against the table and chatted with them, laughing. 

“So, it’s not the drinks that bring you back,” you muttered to yourself, moving your gaze back to him. 

The small smile that tugged the corner of his lips as he watched her caused a strange feeling to stir in your chest. You clenched your hands together, forcing away the uncomfortable squeeze.

You stood abruptly from your seat, ignoring your chair tipping backwards and hitting the floor. His attention was on you again. The smile was gone.

“We’re going.”

“Haven't finished your drink,” he called as you stormed off. 

You ignored him, pushing straight between the two quarreling men. Your hands pressed hard against both their chests to pry them out of your way. 

The two men stumbled back, caught off guard. 

“Hey!”

“Don't touch me, you little bitch,” the other snarled. His hand shot out to grab your wrist, narrowly latching on. 

His movements were sloppy, most likely from all the ale he'd been drinking. You were quick enough to snatch your hand away before he could restrain you. 

You were beginning to really hate this tavern. 

More patrons were beginning to watch the exchange, sitting back like it was some spectacle. 

But, you saw John rise from his stool. His hand grasping his sword as he approached the men from behind. 

“Let's settle down, gentleman,” he said with a tired sigh.

The man who tried grabbing you turned his attention to John. “Stay outta this,” he hissed, clenching his fists and setting his shoulders back. He was much larger than John, towering at least a head taller.

You didn't want to find out how well a brawl between the two would end. 

“Obtempero."

The spell sliped from your lips and the man stiffend. In that instance, your mind was linked with his as you forcibly erased any free will he had. 

Shut up and sit down, you commanded. 

The room went silent as the man lowered onto his seat. You clenched your jaw when your head began to throb, a sign of him fighting against your control.

“Quickly,” you beckoned to the mercenary. Your control over the man’s mind wouldn't last long and you didn't want to stick around to face his wrath. 

You turned and dashed out the tavern doors, followed closely by John who was laughing to himself. 

“Clearly you can handle yourself. Don't know what you need me for,” he said.

A light rainfall had started, coating you and the streets in water. You raised your hood over your head to shield yourself. 

The street was still bustling with citizens with their umbrellas. A good cover in case the man tried following the two of you.

“I only agreed to a guard to appease father’s worries,” you muttered, sidestepping a pair of children running past you, chasing each other with wooden swords. “But, dealing with pea-brained oafs is easy compared to defending myself from someone with a dagger.”

He only hummed in reply, walking in stride with you up the cobblestone street. The rain was beginning to dampen his hair and clothes, but he didn't seem to mind.

You could feel your concentration on the spell waning the further you got until it snapped. You tensed and reached to grab John’s hand. His fingers wrapped around yours without question.

“We have to-”

“You bitch! I'm gonna tear you apart!”

Your head snapped around to find the man burst from the tavern door with a roar. Your heart jumped. The man almost seemed to burn with fury as he barreled up the street in search of you.

“This way.” 

John tugged your hand and you allowed him to pull you through the street, weaving your way through throngs of people. He pulled you through unfamiliar streets that passed by in a blur before taking a sharp right into an alleyway, tugging you into the shadows. 

Your back was against the stone walls and you heaved a sigh. Your heart raced with adrenaline. This certainly wasn't anything you'd experienced while nose-deep in a book. “Gods, I-”

“Shh,” he hushed, placing a hand over your mouth. 

Your eyes widened. He was looking out towards the street and you realized how close he was standing, nearly pressed against your front. Your hand gripped his wrist; to pry it off or hold him close, you didn't know.

When he deemed the coast clear, his hand fell away.

“Don't do that again,” you said weakly. 

He looked down at you, an amused smile forming. “Understood. Mind giving me my hand back then?”

You didn't realize your grip on his wrist remained. You released him and slipped away. 

“I'll lead us home.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun was just setting by the time you returned to the manor. John had followed you silently the whole way. 

“Welcome back, ma'am,” Ann greeted once you entered the foyer. She was a maid you'd known since you were a child. Her warm smile was akin to that of a mother’s, though you'd never call her such. 

“Ann will run you a bath and get you some new clothes.”

She was already moving up the left side of the split staircase to fulfill your request.

“What's wrong with my clothes?” John glanced down at his attire, smoothing his hand down the front of his doublet, now soaked with rain. 

“They're filthy and soaked. Now go.” You used your hand to shoo him off and he followed Ann with a sigh, ascending the stairs. 

You went off to another area of the manor where you could take your own bath and wash away the grime of that tavern.

When the bath was filled and ready, you shed your robes and stepped into the warmth, sighing as the warm water enveloped your body. You ran your hand up your arm, over your neck, and down your collarbone. 

While you washed, your thoughts wandered back to John. A hand slipped down the valley of your breasts and between your thighs. 

There was no question that he was attractive. The mercenary was new and surprisingly exciting—an experiment to toy with. You wanted to win him, have him in the palm of your hand and study what made him tick. 

Your index finger brushed against your clit. The first hum of pleasure bolted through your body. Slow teasing circles were drawn over your clit until you ached for more. Two fingers parted your folds to allow your middle finger to dip in. 

You sunk lower into the water, chin rippling the surface, and let your eyes fall shut to embrace your own touch while imagining it was someone else's. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you slipped out of the bath, satisfied, you redressed into a new robe. The loose low neck reached your abdomen, teasing the inner valley of your breasts. 

As you made your way to your room, you noticed the door was left slightly ajar. When you pushed open the door, you found John standing at your bookshelf, his fingers running down the spine of a tome. 

He was in a fresh set of clothes, loaned from a butler by the looks of it. The untucked, white dress shirt clung to the curves of his muscles, growing taut when he folded his arms. The black pants fit his form enough to show off the thickness of his thighs.

You shut the door and leaned against it, eyeing his form. The ache between your legs was growing again, wanting more than just your fingers this time. 

John turned around at the noise and you could see the buttons of his shirt were halfway done, revealing his toned chest with a smattering of hair. 

“Impressive collection,” he remarked. “I’d expect no less from a wizard.”

“I spent my entire life building this collection,” you replied absently. Your mind was wandering to other things—the veins on his arms, the bulge of his pectorals in the shirt. You were unashamedly staring through lowered eyelids, greedily taking in the sight. 

He was just as interested in your low cut robes. It was obvious in the way his eyes roamed your chest. 

You chose to close the gap until you were beside the bookcase, just a foot away from his side. 

He leaned his shoulder against the shelves and looked at you with a sly smirk. “Trying to charm me?”

Magic would make your game too easy.

Your hand moved to caress his jaw, smoothing over the soft hairs of his beard. He didn't move away, choosing to lean further into your touch. 

“I don't need to,” you hummed. Your fingers clawed up the slope of his neck and into the short strands of damp hair, drawing his face closer. “You're already mine.”

“That so?” His words fluttered along your lips in warm breaths. Strong hands fell to the curves of your waist, smoothing down to your ass and pulling you against his front. 

You felt the growing stiffness of his cock, trapped in his pants, press against your abdomen which only made the throbbing of your cunt worse. Instead of responding, you leaned forward and sealed your lips tightly against his, tasting smoke and bitter ale on his tongue. 

John was quick to respond, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip to get you to open up for him. His grip slid down your ass, roughly squeezing the soft flesh in his large palms. 

You rubbed yourself against his bulge, trying to satisfy the need growing inside of you. There was a needy, animalistic frenzy in his low groan, vibrating in his chest. 

He backed you up towards your desk. It was cluttered with more tomes you amassed over the years, threatening to spill at the slightest touch. Your prized spell book, a gift from your father, was also sitting open, flipped to the enchantment spell you used earlier at the tavern. 

John didn't seem to care much for your precious collection as he swiped the books off your desk to make room to set you down. They scattered to the floor.

You pulled away, intent on telling him off. That spell book was one of a kind—

He didn't give you room to argue, much less breathe. His lips were already diving forward to capture yours again, dizzying you, driving any thought out of your head. Your legs spread around his to accommodate his body as he forced your attention back on him.

John’s hands pushed aside the fabric of your robe which easily fell around your waist, exposing your bare breasts to the cool room air. Your hardening nipples rubbed against the coarse fabric of his shirt. 

Your hands roamed his chest in turn, running over the coarse hairs and clawing down his exposed sternum. You worked quickly to unbutton the rest of his shirt and pushed it off his broad shoulders. 

Once revealed, you trailed your eyes over his chest and down to a nasty scar sliced from his upper torso across his stomach. It was old by the scaring. You briefly wondered if it was the reason he was no longer a knight as your hand reached out to brush over it. 

John caught your wrist in an iron grip. When you looked back at his face, his stern expression told you enough to stay silent about it. With your short nod, the tension in the air lifted and he was back to work on you.

Another night then, you thought. You'd unravel his secrets eventually. 

When he released your wrist and pulled away, he moved down to his knees, untying the knot at your waist and pushing aside the rest of the fabric to reveal the rest of your body. With your thighs spread, he could fit his hand between your thighs, feeling the arousal leaking from your cunt. 

“So wet already?” 

His middle finger parted your folds, dipping in ever so slightly, causing your hips to shift forward, but he pulled away before you could feel him any deeper. He got to his knees, grunting as his settled.

Your legs hooked over his shoulders, leaving him face to face with your cunt. His heavy breath fanned over your exposed cunt. 

“What a sight,” he muttered to himself before leaning in to flick his tongue over your clit again and again. 

Your body trembled with static after every stroke of his tongue. Your fingers locked through his brown hair, tugging sharply at the roots. He hissed through his teeth at the sting, but even that didn't stop him. 

His hands gripped your thighs around his shoulders, digging into the soft flesh and then smoothing up until his hands cupped your ass to push you further into his mouth. 

One of your hands rested on the table to give yourself leverage as you rode his face. The hair of his beard burned against your inner thigh.

The pleasure thruming through your veins forced your legs to lock around his head as your orgasm came to its peak. 

“That's it,” he coaxed. “Come in my fuckin’ mouth, love.” 

John kept his mouth on your fluttering cunt, refusing to pull away until he had taken every last drop of your cum. Your hands weakly pulled on his hair, but his fingers dug deeper into your thighs as he forced his head back in. 

“Gods,” you panted, looking down at him between your thighs, devouring you like a starved man. “Fuck me already.” 

“Patience,” he huffed, flicking his tongue languidly over your clit once again. Your body stiffened again. “You think you can take me after one little orgasm?” 

As you clenched around nothing and his tongue continued to take long strokes over your cunt, you rolled your eyes and snapped back, “Don’t be so cocky.”

He rose quickly after your remark, yanking your body off the desk as he went and forcing you around. One of his palms met the back of your neck and pushed you flat against the desk. His cock pressed against your ass. The fabric of his pants were rough against your bare skin. 

“Let-"

His other hand clamped over your mouth and he growled into your ear, “No—no more orders. I'll give you what you want, but don't start cryin’ when it doesn't fit.” 

You ached, wanting to rub your thighs together but his legs were in the way. His hand moved from your mouth to the button of his pants to pull himself free. 

You could feel his thick cock press against your ass. Even without looking, you could tell he was nothing like the other wizards you'd have meaningless flings with in school.  

His cock notched at your entrance and he asked lowly, “Ready, love?” 

The hand over your mouth moved to caress the valley of your knuckles as your hand clasped the edge of the desk. Such an intimate gesture you almost wanted to embrace by turning over your hand and intertwining fingers. 

But, you didn't have time for much thought before he buried himself into you as deep as he could go without resistance. Which was only the tip of his cock.

Your walls clamped around him, refusing to let him bully his way deeper. You whimpered, white-knuckling the desk, and shut your eyes. Gods, he was too thick. 

“Shh,” he cooed in your ear. His fingers slid across your temple and into your hair, keeping your head against the desk. “You wanted this, right? You can take more.”

And he did give you more—and more, and more. Your clawed at the desk, welled up tears spilling down the side of your face, as he stretched you around his cock. You didn't breathe, not until his hips met your ass and you were completely filled to the brim. 

You gasped, filling your lungs with air. The edge of the desk pressing against your abdomen allowed you to feel him deeper. 

He grunted as you clenched around his length. “So fuckin’ tight,” he muttered to himself as he slowly rocked into your fluttering heat. 

The friction wasn't enough for you. As always, you wanted more. You wanted to be fucked, ravished, devoured completely and thrown into a sickening rapture. 

“More,” you moaned as his cocked dragged against your walls. You were needy and hungry for him to take you harder. 

“Does a brat like you even know how to say please?” He slipped out of you completely instead. 

You whined in protest, moving your hips back to fill the empty ache he left behind. His hands moved to grip your waist, holding you in place. “No, don't.”

“Too good to beg for it?” His fingers prodded at your entrance before he slipped two inside. They weren't comparable to his cock though—not as thick, not as full. “Come on my fingers then.”

His fingers curled against the sensitive spongey spot inside of you.

“F-Fuck you,” you ground out between your teeth, biting back a moan. 

“That’s not what I asked for.” His voice was stern; there was no room for arguments, no room for demands other than his own. 

You bit your lip. You weren't the one who was supposed to be begging—he was. Having John wrapped around your finger, desperate to please you like everyone else, was the end goal. But this? 

Strong, commanding, taking what he wants—that was who John was. And even you couldn't help but relent to that dominance. 

“Please.”

“Speak up, love.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

Bastard. 

“Please,” you repeated with a little more desperation than intended.

“Good girl,” he praised. His fingers slipped from you, pulling a string of your arousal with them, and he licked them clean. With his hands back on your hips, he lined up his cock and thrust back into you. 

Your mouth hung open as your back arched into the desk. The pace he set was relentless. It rocked your desk, sending any books and papers left on it to the floor. But you didn't care anymore, not when he found that perfect spot inside you again and again. Your toes curled as warmth pooled in your stomach and your core tightened. 

A hand wrapped around your neck once again, wrenching your back against his chest and forcing your head to the side. The sweat of your bodies melded you together. John’s fingers pressed on your throat with enough pressure to make you see stars. His gruff pants burst along the shell of your ear. His lips grazed the back of your neck as another hand moved to toy with your clit. 

You cursed as your body seized up and you came around him. You held onto the arm pressed against your chest as you rode out your orgasm. 

With a few more sharp thrusts, he spilled inside of you, flooding you with warmth. As you caught your breaths, he cupped your jaw and turned your head towards his to pull you into a searing kiss, still full of passion just like the first. 

You were almost boneless, sinking into the kiss and his arms. “Bed,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder when he released your jaw. “Now.”

John clicked his tongue as he slid out of you. A mix of your arousal begin to leak down your leg. You flinched when his hand cupped your sex to stop anymore from escaping. 

The action felt more possessive than anything else—something you weren't used to. Interest stirred in you once again. 

[marchsfreakshow]

Lovingly Obsessed [Warren Lipka]

Smut.

Warren's taken you out of your comfort zone wayyy too much for your liking. But you find yourself strangely in love with it despite the stoner's weird way of showing you his adoration.

Warnings: car fucking, public sex, quick oral, dub-con (almost?)

AAAAA! I don't know this will sound so bad and ooc I'm so sorry. Just take it! Warren has invaded my brain once again.

18+! MINORS DNI

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

It was like he found a crevice your mind nothing had ever occupied before. And made a home. It was like he had made himself comfortable there, and never floated away. Reaching into your brain and finding the comfortability, whipping it away from you. Throwing it away forever.

Warren Lipka truly was a man you hadn't been friends with before. What you were used to was nerdy, untouched men, loving anime and DnD. Not a man who'd love to drag you to parties just to get drunk, high, then make out in a corner for the rest of the night. With the music beating harsh in your heart. On edge practically 24/7 since Warren would appear at your window during the night because he wanted a midnight drive. And possibly to get sucked off.

Despite it all, you were oddly endeared to the man. Letting your hate for risk-taking fade every time he snuck you out of the house, or kept you at his all night. The only time Warren gave you 'i love you' was when you were in the backseat of his car, gripping onto the seat and desperately riding him. His grubby, unloved nails digging into your skin. The little crescent moons becoming more obvious the more he moved your hips for you. Constant squeaks of the car barely covering your moans, whimpers. It definitely covered up his quiet, reserved groans, however. "J-jesus I love you..." He muttered into your neck, sticking tiny marks on the skin.

"I love...you as well.." Was your obvious reply, panting and whimpering as your thrusts got more humpy, car squeaks slowing and quieting down.

"No, baby don't slow down... c'mon..there you go.." The man under you coaxed you to start picking the pace up again. He murmered desperate, fumbling, fucks and your name over and over like he didn't realise you were really there. His name being screamed out only drove him further to dig and plummet himself into you. More than he had before.

Simply losing yourselves in the hot, small car. The lonely car in the summer morning at an empty parking lot. Maybe a car all the way over there. One just parking over here. Workers already hating their 5am start, just to walk past the car, refusing to take notice of you and Warren. Whispy air, thickening with every noise leaving you. "Knees...knees. Now." Warren murmered desperately. His hand replacing you as soon as you started to manuvere yourself between his legs awkwardly. Open mouth, wide tongue... like you'd done this before. "Fuck- fuck! Jesus Christ...ha-" Were the words rapidly leaving him as he tugged your mouth down, forcing you to take every drop of his come, and every inch of his cock.

"Alright you can get up now." He stated, still catching his breath from unceremoniously thrusting up into your throat. Awkwardly, you climbed back into the passenger seat, shuffling your trousers back on as more workers' car's filled the parking lot.

There was a comfortable silence for a bit, as Warren drove you two, somewhere. But the road started to look long and desperate. You found yourself asking a question you thought you'd never ask anyone. "Can we get high, then fuck in McDonalds bathroom?"

You were perfect for the stoner driving next to you. He simply nodded in response.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @marchsfreak / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hi! Hope ur doing great! First of all, I really love your fics! I think you're really talented.

I have a request, if it's not too much trouble. I can't stop thinking about a Steve w/head trauma (so, maybe migraine prone, memory issues, etc) and a DM Eddie that still resents Steve from high school. Eddie doesn't know Steve struggles with the complications of his concussions, so he keeps judging him for it. Say, for example, Steve got a terrible migraine and couldn't pick the kids up from Dnd and Eddie thinks he's probably at a party and stood them up. Then Eddie finds out, maybe from Steve himself or a Party member or Steve's parents. (If you could somehow sneak in Steve's parents being good caring parents for one, it'd be really cool.) Eddie apologizes and they start getting closer. And, yeah, that's all. Thank you!!!

We know I love writing Steve with a migraine. Not to jinx anything, but it's been almost two weeks since I've had one myself so I'm sure the torture I put him through here will have instant karma and I will wake up with one. Is it realistic for Eddie to pretty much fall instantly in love with a man he hated the night before? No. Do I write realistic stories? No. Buckle up for the fastest burn you can possibly read today! - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve Harrington was late.

Not just a few minutes late, not like he maybe got held up at a light for an extra two minutes, not like he had to stop for gas.

He was 25 minutes late.

Eddie was pissed.

He didn’t mind hanging out with the kids longer, wouldn’t have even minded if he’d just been given a heads up that Steve would be late.

A phone call.

A fucking letter by pigeon.

Anything.

Dustin seemed worried, more than anyone else, though the later it got, the more Lucas and Will and Mike seemed to worry too.

And Eddie would maybe worry too, except he knew what was happening.

He knew because it’s all he ever expected of Steve.

Steve probably went to a party, thought he could make his rounds, maybe have a drink and sober up in time to come get the kids.

And then he probably got bribed into having another drink, maybe smoke a joint in the backyard of whatever rich kid’s house he was visiting, maybe have a shot with a group of kids who liked to spend their time bullying the very kids he was supposed to be picking up.

Maybe fuck a girl in a bedroom upstairs until he was too tired and just passed out on top of her.

He rolled his eyes at the thought.

“Maybe we could try to call his house again?” Lucas asked.

“He didn’t answer the first four times, why would he now?” Mike asked, though his eyes kept scanning the road into the trailer park, searching for headlights that wouldn’t appear.

And wasn’t that just the last straw for Eddie? Watching his favorite gremlins admire and respect someone who couldn’t even remember to pick them up? Watching them expect so much from a guy who peaked in high school, who didn’t care about them if it hindered his plans?

“You guys wait here,” he said, his hands shaking with anger.

“Where are you going?” Will asked.

“To call Robin. If anyone will know what’s up, she will,” he replied.

It was late, but not too late for a phone call between adults.

“Buckley residence, you’ve got Robin,” Robin answered the phone with a bored tone.

“Any clue why your best friend is 30 minutes late to pick the kids up from my house?” He tried not to sound angry at her, it wasn’t her fault.

But he couldn’t hide the fact that he didn’t understand what band nerd, lesbian, nice person Robin could possibly see in Steve.

Sure, he carted the kids around a lot, and had helped Wayne out with Eddie’s medical stuff after Vecna, but it felt like he did it out of guilt more than anything else.

“He’s never late,” she said, her tone sharp, defensive. “You sure he knew they needed rides?”

“Positive. I heard him yell to them when he dropped them off that he’d see them in three hours.”

Robin didn’t respond for a minute, and he almost thought the line went dead.

“Has Dustin tried the walkie?” She finally asked.

“Yeah. No answer.”

“Shit.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Wanna fill me in here, Buckaroo?”

“Um. Can you bring the kids home? I gotta go check on him.”

Before he could respond, the dial tone let him know she was already gone.

“Fuck!” He yelled.

He hung up the phone and grit his teeth together.

The problem wasn’t taking the kids home, he really didn’t mind and had told them on multiple occasions that he could so they didn’t have to rely on Steve to do it.

The problem was that they had relied on Steve and he let them down.

He hated that he’d have to go out there and tell them that Steve wasn’t coming.

He hates Steve for the way he would have to watch their faces fall, for the way they’d ride to their homes in silence.

He hated Steve for the fact that he’d probably buy them all ice cream tomorrow to apologize and they’d all rely on him again.

All would be forgiven.

———————————-

The next morning, he tried calling Robin and got no answer.

He tried calling Dustin and got no answer, though he wasn’t as surprised by that since he’d already been considering going to the Sinclairs’ to spend the weekend since his mom was working.

He tried Steve’s house and got an answering machine. Twice.

He considered leaving a scathing message, but didn’t want to risk one of his parents hearing it and deleting it.

“Fuck it,” he said to himself before he grabbed his keys and decided to drive to Steve’s house.

He was a little surprised to actually see Steve’s car in the driveway, half expecting him to still be passed out at some stranger’s house.

Before he could ring the doorbell, the front door swung open and Robin’s wide eyes were silently begging him to stay quiet.

She looked exhausted, a little flustered, more stressed than he’d seen in a long time.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Maybe Steve drank more than he should’ve, maybe he wasn’t actually home and she was trying to find him still.

“Come in but be quiet. He’s finally sleeping,” she said, already walking back into the house.

He followed, closing the door behind him and giving his surroundings a quick look.

Everything looked perfect as usual except for Robin’s shoes by the door and her backpack open on the floor by the couch.

The couch that Steve was currently passed out on, blankets almost completely covering his head, ice pack resting over his eyes.

Eddie’s brows furrowed.

“Hangover?” He whispered to Robin.

She looked at him confused.

“No? He hasn’t drank in nearly a year.”

If Eddie didn’t have more control over his body, his jaw would’ve dropped.

“Oh. Um. So is he sick?” Eddie tried to gather up his thoughts, glancing over at the sleeping form on the couch.

He noticed the curtains closed and no lights turned on, noticed the complete silence in the house except for the sound of a fan running in the corner.

“He gets migraines. I thought you knew,” she said.

Eddie shook his head.

“He’s had a lot of head trauma. Gets migraines that make it impossible to even sit up sometimes. I guess he was fighting it most of the day yesterday but after he dropped the kids off with you, he passed out in the shower and barely was able to crawl to his bed after. When you called me, I kind of assumed the worst, so I came straight here and saw him naked and shivering in bed, not able to get up to get dressed or even get the covers on. Got him dressed, got him water and meds, called his parents, tried to help him eat. He spent almost an hour throwing up after that. Then he cried because he forgot the kids. Memory problems happen with the head trauma, too. I couldn’t calm him down until about an hour ago.”

Eddie let himself feel the guilt he deserved for thinking the worst of Steve.

Steve didn’t deserve this. No one did.

“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Eddie whispered, his voice broken thinking about how Steve had been alone here, probably scared when he was curled up in his bed unable to move.

“No. His parents are on their way. If it’s not better tomorrow, they’ll probably take him to his neurologist,” Robin responded.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

A whimper came from the couch, causing Robin to tense and hold her breath.

Eddie looked over and waited to see if maybe Steve was completely awake or if he’d just made a noise in his sleep.

After a few seconds, Robin relaxed, and he felt a breath leave his body.

“How often does this happen?” he whispered as she went to grab a drink from the fridge.

“This bad? Once a month or so. He sometimes has some memory problems without the migraine, but luckily he snaps back quickly,” she shrugged, acted as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Eddie could see right through her.

“And you help him a lot?”

“Well, his parents travel a lot for work, and he can’t always call them or remember how to contact them when it’s this bad, so yeah. I tend to be the one to take care of him until they can get here,” she said.

Eddie chewed on a piece of his hair, glancing over towards the couch every few seconds.

He was surprised this hadn’t come up before.

He was even more surprised that none of the kids had mentioned this as a possibility last night.

“Why didn’t the kids mention it last night when I was pissed?” he finally asked.

“Steve doesn’t really tell anyone. Like, the kids know, but they’ve never actually seen it, and so I think they just kinda forget. He doesn’t wanna bother them with it.”

“That’s stupid, they care about h-”

The front door started to open and a woman peeked her head inside.

Robin ran over as quickly and quietly as she could and Eddie stood awkwardly behind the couch as a middle aged woman walked into the house.

A man followed a few seconds after, a bag in hand.

“Is he asleep?” the woman asked.

“Yeah,” Robin replied before explaining much of what she’d already told Eddie to them.

The Harringtons looked surprisingly put together for a couple who probably hadn’t slept all night and most likely had flown home from somewhere as quickly as they could. They also looked nothing like what Eddie expected.

Mr. Harrington was bald, age spots on his head giving away that he must have been quite a few years older than Mrs. Harrington. She had the same color hair as Steve, same voluminous style, cut just above the shoulders. They both wore glasses, and both of them were wearing business attire like they’d rushed back directly from a meeting.

“And who is this?” he heard Mr. Harrington ask, gesturing towards Eddie.

He walked over and put his hand out to shake, trying to remember the best manners he could.

“I’m Eddie, a friend of Steve’s.”

He could feel Robin staring at him, but didn’t turn towards her. Instead, he shook Mrs. Harrington’s hand and then offered to help with any other bags they have.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We can get them later. Since he’s asleep, we’re gonna go freshen up a bit and then you can head on home. Thank you for taking care of him, Robin. You know we appreciate you so much,” Mrs. Harrington said as she hugged her.

“It’s never a problem. Take your time,” she said.

“I’ll stay, Robin. You should go home and sleep,” Eddie offered before he could think about what he was offering.

“You’ll stay? With Steve?” Robin asked incredulously.

“Yeah. He seems pretty out of it so I’m sure he won’t even wake up before they’re done,” Eddie said, hopeful that he was right.

“Alright, my mom should be here in a few minutes anyway. She was bringing me a change of clothes in case I ended up staying today, so she can just bring me home,” Robin said hesitantly.

“Okay.”

The Harringtons nodded and walked upstairs without another word, most likely too tired to care much about who stayed with Steve as long as he was being looked after.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this,” Robin said when they were gone.

“I know. But I’m the only one here who slept last night, I can handle it for a bit.”

“He can be…kind of a lot,” she sounded like she didn’t want to admit it, didn’t like saying something negative about him at all.

“It’s fine. If he’s in this much pain, then it’s understandable.”

Robin looked him over for a moment, something like understanding finally showing on her face. He didn’t know what she was understanding, but he was just grateful she didn’t seem to want to talk more.

She started zipping up her backpack, putting on her shoes, and whispering some basic instructions to Eddie in case Steve woke up.

“Replace the ice pack, don’t let him try to move off the couch by himself and only if he has to use the bathroom. The bucket at the end of the couch is if he gets sick. He needs water if you can try to help him drink some, and if he thinks he can stomach it, there’s some crackers on the coffee table. He’s due for more meds in two hours, but you probably won’t be here for that,” she rambled off.

Eddie nodded along, mentally making a to-do list.

“You’re sure you got it? He sometimes isn’t able to talk.”

Jesus Christ, how had he never noticed this? Was he that oblivious to what Steve was going through?

“I got it.”

He could hear a car pull into the driveway and Robin opened the door to leave.

“If you need me, call me. The Harringtons will probably be as quick as possible, but just in case,” she begged him.

“Okay.”

She left and closed the door behind her quietly, leaving Eddie staring at it for a minute.

He heard a small whimper from the couch and he rushed over, looking down at Steve.

The ice pack had fallen off his face, and his eyes were scrunched closed like he was still suffering even in his sleep.

Eddie leaned over to pick up the ice pack, ready to trade it out with a fresh one, when one of Steve’s eyes opened.

He froze and looked at him, hoping he would go back to sleep quickly.

“Eds?”

Shit.

He’d started calling him Eds in the hospital, always walking into his room with a bright smile and a ‘hey, Eds’ that had Eddie cracking a small smile.

He hadn’t heard it since then.

“Yeah?” he finally responded, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.

He knew when Wayne got headaches, he was very sensitive to noise.

“Hurts,” Steve whimpered out.

Eddie’s heart shattered in his chest.

He walked closer to the couch and knelt down on his knees, placing a hand on Steve’s forehead.

“I know, Stevie. You wanna try to have a sip of water for me?” He whispered.

“No, hurts.”

“Might help,” Eddie tried to bribe him.

But Steve’s eyes were closed again, and even though he wasn’t asleep, he was making it very clear that he couldn’t quite handle keeping them open right now.

Eddie gently ran his fingers back and forth across his forehead, down his nose, along his temples, smiling as Steve’s wrinkles seemed to disappear, his face relaxing slowly.

“Go back to sleep, Stevie,” he whispered.

“Mhm,” Steve let out before he seemed to actually fall back asleep.

—------------------------------

Eddie didn’t move from his spot for nearly 45 minutes, even when his legs went numb and his hand started cramping.

Steve hadn’t so much as snored, so Eddie didn’t want to risk any movement waking him up.

“Would you like something to drink?” Mrs. Harrington asked him, startling him slightly.

“No, thank you,” Eddie responded as quietly as possible.

“Are you the Eddie from the hospital? The one he insisted on visiting every day?” she asked as she sat down on the coffee table right next to him.

“Um, yes ma’am,” he knew he sounded nervous.

“Oh, so you boys worked it all out? He promised he’d tell me if you said yes!” she smiled at him.

“Worked…what out?”

Her eyes widened.

“Your feelings! Steve told us he was going over to your house the day you got out of the hospital and telling you how he felt,” she explained, sounding somewhat unsure now.

Eddie felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor.

“He what?”

“Oh dear,” she said, wringing her hands in her lap. “I suppose I was wrong.”

Eddie saw Mr. Harrington walk into the kitchen from his spot on the floor, felt the tension in the air as Mrs. Harrington tried to change the subject quickly.

But he wasn’t going to stop thinking about what she meant.

Steve had had feelings for him? Like, more than a friend feelings?

Steve let out a small groan in his sleep, shifting his head a bit.

Eddie tried to shush him a bit, running his fingers gently through his hair, careful not to catch on any tangles.

He could feel Mrs. Harrington watching, but she didn’t say anything else until Steve seemed to calm again.

“You know, Steve came out to us in March. Said he’d met a guy who was worth the risk. We love him, we always will, but we were very worried. I think any parent worries when their child, even their grown ones, says they’re in love with someone. In this case, we didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you even liked men. And Steve here tends to fall fast and fall hard and forgets to wear a parachute before the jump.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, his head filled with the way she’d called his feelings love.

“But I think I see now that he didn’t need one. I think he had you jumping with him and you remembered the parachute for him.”

He turned to look at her, her fond smile pointed at them both as he continued to run his fingers through Steve’s hair.

She got up and went into the kitchen, leaving Eddie to think about what she said.

That’s all he did for a while.

—---------------------------------------

The next time Steve woke up, he was slightly more coherent, but still didn’t want to eat or drink.

Mrs. Harrington had gone to lay down for a nap while Mr. Harrington was finishing up something in his office. They both told him to come find them if Steve woke up and needed something.

At some point, Eddie had rested his head against Steve’s chest, listening to his heart beat loudly against his ear.

“Eddie?”

No, why Eddie again? Why not Eds?

“Hey, Stevie,” he lifted his head and spoke just above a whisper. “How about a few sips of water?”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. I’ll help.”

Robin had been kind enough to find a straw for the cup of water she’d gotten before she left, so Eddie just held it up close to Steve’s lips and told him to sip.

Steve did manage a few sips before he shook his head and started to turn away.

“It’s time for more meds. Wanna take them?” Eddie asked.

“Bed?”

“Um.”

“Carry me.”

Eddie let out a small laugh at the demanding tone in Steve’s voice.

Even through the pain, and exhaustion, and struggle of speaking, he sounded like a drama queen.

Eddie might love him.

“Won’t that hurt?”

“A little.”

“Then shouldn’t you stay here?”

“Wanna cuddle.”

Oh.

“Uh. With…your mom?”

“You.”

Eddie was going to pass out.

There was no way he’d be able to carry Steve up the stairs to his room and then cuddle with him, and pretend he wasn’t feeling the overwhelming urge to propose marriage.

These new feelings kicked in too fast for him to process and he knew cuddling wouldn’t help.

“Please?” Steve asked, his eyes squinting slightly from what little light was making it through the curtains.

“Okay, but don’t laugh when I get out of breath.”

Steve didn’t respond, or really do anything to acknowledge what Eddie said, but he was pretty sure Steve’s head hurt too much to laugh anyway so he took a chance.

He removed the blankets on top of him and managed to pick him up relatively easily.

The walk to the stairs wasn’t bad.

The walk up the stairs was rough for a couple reasons: One, Eddie was out of shape and Steve weighed roughly the same as him. Two, Steve kept whimpering in pain with every step.

When they finally reached his bedroom, Eddie was panting and Steve had a couple tears falling from his eyes.

“I sure hope the cuddling lives up to expectations after that,” Eddie tried to joke.

“Worth it,” Steve sighed.

He set Steve in his bed first, made sure the fan in the room was on and the curtains were shut, then got into his bed.

People dreamed for most of high school to be in this position, but Eddie hadn’t let himself picture it.

He wouldn’t have ever pictured this scenario anyway.

Steve was sweaty, almost like he was running a fever, but Eddie didn’t let that deter him from scooting closer and moving Steve into his arms.

They both fell asleep in minutes, Eddie’s fingers wrapped up in Steve’s hair.

—----------------------------------------

When Eddie woke again, it was pitch black in the room.

Steve was also awake.

“Stevie? You need something? Feeling any better?”

He didn’t answer for a minute, and Eddie considered running to get one of his parents, when he finally spoke up.

“A little. Thanks”

Eddie let out a breath and relaxed back against the pillows under him.

“You can go if you want,” Steve nearly whispered into the darkness.

Eddie tensed again as he looked over at Steve, who was playing with the blanket covering him in his hands, not looking at Eddie.

“And if I don’t want to?” Eddie asked, reaching a hand out to hold Steve’s.

“I know you hate me, so. You can go.”

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Eddie couldn’t let him think he hated him, even though up until this morning, he thought he did.

“Stevie, lay down and look at me.”

Steve, surprisingly, listened and Eddie felt a tug at his heart that Steve was willing to listen to him that easily.

Eddie cupped Steve’s jaw, gentle in case of any lingering migraine pains.

“I don’t hate you. I think I realized that maybe I had my own feelings wrong for a long time,” he admitted.

“What?”

“The best part of my days in the hospital were when you visited. Wayne used to make fun of me when you left for being stuck in the hospital for longer because I was lovesick. And when I got home and you didn’t come visit unless you were bringing the kids by, I just kinda thought it meant things were back to normal. King Steve didn’t need to be nice anymore, his charity case was safe and mostly healed,” Eddie stopped Steve from interrupting at that, scared to lose his train of thought. “So I went back to hating you. It’s easier to hate someone when your heart’s broken, ya know? And I just assumed you were the same Steve I thought you always were. But then I realized that you never really were the Steve I thought you were. And especially now, you’re a guy who deserves kindness and care and love. I’d really like the chance to give that to you.”

He felt Steve’s face getting wet and he brushed his thumbs back and forth to wipe away the tears falling.

“I was going to tell you the day you got out of the hospital,” Steve said, voice trembling.

“Tell me what?”

“That I loved you.”

The world stopped spinning, Eddie would bet money on it.

“You did?”

“I did.” Steve gulped. “I do.”

“You do?”

“You’re a hard person to fall out of love with, Munson.”

It was Eddie’s turn to cry, a few tears falling from his eyes onto the pillowcase below.

“So…”

“So?” Steve asked.

“Is the headache better? I’d really like to kiss you,” Eddie said.

“It’s good enough for a kiss. Might even work better than the meds,” Steve’s smirk could be seen even in the darkness.

Eddie didn’t need to wait for more permission than that.

He was gentle, of course. Just because his migraine had gotten better, didn’t mean he was ready to make out.

He gave him a couple soft pecks on the lips, smiling when he felt Steve smiling against him.

“I think you’re probably pretty easy to fall in love with, Harrington.”

“Yeah?” he asked, voice rough.

“Yeah, might be a new record for me.”

“I’ve been told it’s very sexy when I’m suffering through a migraine,” Steve joked.

“You have no idea,” Eddie joked back.

They stayed in bed all night, Steve eventually falling back asleep again.

Eddie stayed awake though, memorizing the shape of Steve’s body with his fingers, or at least what he could reach while he held him.

They could talk more tomorrow, when Steve’s migraine fully subsided.

But Eddie knew what he wanted now, and he’d never been so happy to be wrong about someone.

[hammyballeceter]

What it would be like to date Eddie,

(Some nsfw elements minors dni)

-you become friends with his friends.

-the corroded coffin band practise is a part of your weekly routine

-being the corroded coffins biggest fan

-not understanding DnD but coming along to the meetings anyways.

-Helping save his ass every time he gets in trouble

-metal concerts & gigs every other weekend

-becoming close with his uncle, and moving into their trailer after being with Eddie for a couple years.

-sex. rough sex, vanilla sex, quickies, road head, kinky sex. you name it you and Eddie do it. Your sex life is insane.

-Halloween is like your guys Christmas, always making every year extra special.

-owning more band t-shirts then you could imagine, most of them being Eddie’s of course.

-cheek kisses every time he passes you at school

-not being super PDA around others but him being clingy in private

-every Friday was, as Eddie would call it “Highs and Pies” where you and Eddie would get pizza and smoke as much weed as you could handle.

(S4)-mentions of his death

-Helping in the fight against Vecna.

-becoming like an older sister to max because of it.

-Dustin becoming like a little brother to you also.

-Helping Eddie heal after seeing Chrissy being brutally murdered by Vecna.

-constantly fighting for him, trying your best to make it known he wasn’t evil.

-Having Jason hunt you down since he thought you were also apart of Eddie’s plan

-you beating one of Jason’s friends ass when he spoke of Eddie

-Eddie pleading with you to be safe

-Eddie also thinking you’re the most badass woman ever

-having to deal with his death, bringing you and Dustin even closer. You became each others support.

-his uncle protecting you as he did Eddie swearing your and Eddie’s innocence, even after finding out about Eddie’s death.

-knowing Eddie died a hero

-knowing Eddie was a hero all along

-loving him with such strength, knowing he’d always be your man, even in death.

[dice-sociation]

AP Review: Reckless Attack - Main Campaign

Listen Here: https://www.recklessattack.com/episodes/

Quick info:

Audio Quality: High Quality and Edited, Effects, Music. Vibes: Lord of the Rings, Ghibli, Never Ending Story, Avatar the Last Airbender, Frogs Extras: Discord and Patreon rewards. System: 5e DnD Average Episode time: 1 hour Uploads 1 Episode per week. Campaign/ Show Length: Long Term Campaign Platforms: Podcast, Audio Only. Accessibility: Content Warnings Language available: English Diversity: AAPI/BIPOC Number of Episodes Review is based on: 100 (This is my first review so I decided to start with a Podcast I’m already caught up on) ** If you want the TLDR, scroll to the bottom of the post **

Why Reckless Attack?

I honestly believe that part of the draw of listening to people play a TTRPG is not just the story telling but an assurance that adults can somehow actually and consistently come together, in person, to pull off a full long term game. Reckless Attack is one such podcast. They are a small indie podcast with excellent audio quality and editing. 

But, why should you listen to another high fantasy podcast? Well, have you ever wanted to see what a post-apocalyptic High Fantasy world would look like? The deeper you delve into Reckless Attack, the deeper the lore gets, and we have barely scratched the surface a hundred episodes in. You’ll join the players as they explore a world recovering from an apocalyptic event, ripe with magic and unstable artifacts, an undead army, and frogs.

Starting The Pod

Right out the gate, the listeners are greeted by a Lord of the Rings style opening monologue, giving relevant history and context to the kind of place the characters live in. I personally get the feeling a lot of the world was established in a previous game or between the DM and players prior to the start of this campaign. If, as a listener, it feels like you're missing something, don't worry; you'll get a lot more context down the road, especially once the players make it to the city of Agmar (Episode 15). The first 15 episodes are a nice slow build up. 

Conveniently, the first recap episode covers Episode 1-14! (Though I really enjoyed the first 14 episodes, I know not everyone has the amount of listening time I have). If you are so inclined to start from the first episode, you'll get nicely eased into the characters and their relationships with one another before a lot of the bigger world building really starts to soar.

(My one caveat is that I listen to this podcast at 1.3-1.4 speed since the players and Nathan speak with a good amount of pauses, and that can be a little too slow for me.)

About the Team

Nathan, the DM for the main campaign, paints some amazing pictures of his homebrew world. He has a real talent for creating larger than life NPCs and Big Baddies for his players to interact with. They all have clear motivations, flaws, and personalities that truly rounds out the overall story. When it comes to plot, Nathan kept me on my toes with plot twists that would literally snap me out of whatever multitasking I was doing. And I must recognize how often Nathan opens the floor for the players to build parts of the story and describe longer stretches of downtime. Those moments are like the equivalent of cinematic montages to represent the passing of time.

The players, Sophie, Steve, David, and Jonathan, deliver wonderful descriptions and leave plenty of space for each other to speak, balanced with just the right amount of crosstalk. Each character has a very unique voice which is helpful for listeners (especially because David and Jonathan are twins and have similar voices).

Sophie plays Valeska Carter, the Human * Cleric. "Valeska is a young woman in search of answers. Like, compulsively."* I quickly fell in love with Val, an exhausted nerd who can never have enough notes and organization. If you're the kind of person who is always rescuing animals, you will love her too. 

Steve plays Selv Asterlin, the Dragonborn Monk. "Selv’s years at his town’s icy mountain monastery has trained not just his body, but also his mind and emotions. The large dragonborn seeks to be a peacemaker in conflicts, exuding strength, calm and serenity while straying away from violence and lethal force when possible."* But don't be fooled, Selv is often one for the occasional good prank, and I always appreciate Steve's references even when the rest of the group don't understand them. (I got you Steve) 

David plays Kascorin "Kass" Brightmane, the Dwarven Warlock. "Tomorrow (Kass leaves) this city for the Golden Tree adventuring guild, and in leaving this city, (He leaves his) friends, (his) family, and (his) comfortable life behind."* Kass is very grounded, serious, and focused, until he runs into tasty dried meats. Kass has all the charm of a warlock and the grit of a soldier. 

Jonathan plays Checkers, the Gung Druid, with his trusty pals Mango and Junior. "Joining the Golden Tree adventuring guild on a dare, Checkers and his frog pal Mango are here to prove that it’s better to find your own path than to follow someone else’s. After all, where’s the fun in looking before you leap?"* Checkers is a lot like the characters I personally play. Someone who doesn't stand around for too much planning and prefers to "leap" into action. In my very humble opinion, every group needs an instigator. 

I have also come to really admire the level of trust and respect the group has for one another. They handle both wonderful whimsical beats as well as solemn moments with great care (Episode 108 was magnificent.)

*Quoted from the official Reckless Attack website. You can find this and more at their website www.recklessattack.com. (Be aware, reading the available character sheets may contain spoilers)

About the World

Ryxia is built on a world where long ago, the Gods walked among mortals, but one day they left. As if in consequence, magic in this world seems to ebb and flow, and monsters roam the wilds. Until, the "second of Ryxia’s twin suns disappeared from the sky, the Ultragiants appeared, and the Pentarchy’s great capital city of Narhasur was turned into a smoldering crater." *

You can think of the Ultra Giants as the Titans of this world, being elemental and colossal. These Ultra Giants terrorized mortals until one day, the mortals managed to kill one " wielding their city’s Object of Focus… The object was destroyed, as was much of the army. But strangely, within days, the Ultragiants no longer stalked Ryxia."*

As the mortals re-emerged, they started to rebuild despite the incredible amount of monsters who now roam the lands. 

*Quoted from the official Reckless Attack website. You can find this and more at their website www.recklessattack.com. (Be aware, reading the available character sheets may contain spoilers)

Extras

Aside from the main campaign Nathan has his own series called Reckless A-Talk. This series Nathan or others on the team interview incredible people from all over the TTRPG space. Nathan's style of interviewing is mostly allowing his guest to speak more than he does, followed by the wonderful lightning round questions. I highly recommend listening to these (as a little treat) if you are interested in learning other perspectives and other aspects of the industry. 

Bonus one shots are another part of Reckless Attack, allowing the players to take the reigns.  They serve as fun filler for when you just can't wait for the next episode to drop. 

And if that's still not enough content for you, you can always subscribe to their Patreon for even more content, including the very relaxed Reckless A-Snack.

TLDR

High Fantasy world rebuilding the world after mortals were nearly wiped out.

Listeners will get a good feel of the world within the first 14 episodes. (IMO, the pacing starts to pick up after Episode 14)

Here are "Tale Til Now," recap episodes for those who want to catch up faster. (Episodes 1-14, 14-42, 42-66, 67-84)

Non Player Characters are larger than life, with clear motives and personalities.

The Dungeon Master and Players share a lot of world building and you can feel the love and trust they have for each other.

Recommended listening at 1.3x-1.5x speed if you are one of those people (you know who you are).

Find more details about the world and characters at www.recklessattack.com.

Lots of extra content for those who just need more, including; interviews, one-shots run by the players, and patreon bonus content. https://www.patreon.com/recklessattack/home

Do you have ideas or suggestions? Please feel free to comment!

Special thanks to Artax of Who's Taking Watch for helping with editing!

No Context Spoilers:

[larkingame]

so, i don't usually crosspost these posts, but this week's update on patreon is available to everyone and I know I have a bit of a larger following on tumblr, and I'd really like everyone on the same page so I'm dropping all I have to say here too.

good evening friends!! i hope you're all doing well! welcome to the first update of 2024. momentous for me personally, because this is the year we finish larkin. i am making this post available to all patrons, (paid or not) because I'd really like to start 2024 on the right foot with everyone aware of the road ahead. i am so determined to get it done you have no idea. this is my year. 2024, i christen thee: the year of the vampire cowboy.

okay, so big things ahead, lets talk about the update, explore some of the features we have in the game, plans for this weekends release, the schedule and a couple other things.

so, if you've played at all with the new version of the game, you'll take notice that it's a little bit different than my first image of the game. at first larkin was just a straight interactive fiction following the likes of cog like games, with choices and avenues and split stats and the like. but now, as of 2024 (crazy) we're seeing a game that is more reminiscent of a ttrpg, like dnd or cyberpunk, with stats, classes and dice rolls. admittedly, the very first encounter of the game is well (it's a little rigged) the game, of course, could not really get started if the preacher gets cooked before they've even made it to nevada, so, the odds are a little bit stacked in the players favor this round, but at least, it gives you a little bit of a taste of whats to come. to dive into the specifics of what's important with this first encounter (or just, how to avoid getting your ass really kicked) these first few rolls give bonuses to players with high dexterity and athleticism—-but that's not to say you need to make your character beefed up in these departments. each stat will get their time to shine later down the line.

but let's talk about what i'm really excited to discuss: classes. so with the new version of larkin, i've introduced a system of classes that operate somewhat like your standard dungeons and dragons class, but with a little bit more of that classic background from the original ttrpg mixed in—coloring the way your character sees the world of the game, sort of how a race might effect a dnd character--(a dwarf player is going to have a much different worldview than say, an elf.) for this i was heavily inspired by games like dragon age origins and baldur's gate, and while I do have those original background ready to be dropped a little bit later on the game in relation to your character's perspectives on the abrams family, I really like how these have come to form.

in total there are seven new classes: con-man, outlaw, healer, thief, gambler, showman and slayer. each of these classes warps the perspective of the player character, giving them new motivations, dialogue options, and affects their relationships with the other characters in the game and the world around them. to illustrate this, I'm thinking of making a little bit more of an in depth explanation screen to be added to saturday's update to really get that point across, but I'm still toying with how I want to phrase the specifics of it. what i might do is something similar to baldur's gate with little pop-up tutorials that can be turned off/on depending on how you'd like to play.

to give an example of some of the more in depth motivations/choices each class offers lets talk about the thief and the outlaw classes. the thief class i am especially excited for, because like the con-man class and similar to a few others, it really allows your character to be very money/materialistically motivated. it opens up routes later in the game, like romancing one of the sokolovs—with motivations reminiscent of gold-digging (hehehe very excited for that—i think it will be very fun to write—because you have this idea of a cold hearted player who is entering into a relationship with them strictly for business, versus a cold hearted player who is in it for the cash but also. might be falling in love with one of the sokolovs? ((a lot of fun dynamics afoot here.)) the outlaw class is also one i'm excited to work with because it really puts something of a strain on the preacher and wyatt's relationship—-mostly because you see a strong division in terms of their ethics—the preacher in that case is very 'do what you gotta do to survive,' whereas wyatt believes (key word—believes) he's living by some sort of moral code—that he's failed to instill in the person he views as his child. so like there are layers here boys. layers of resentment, failure—to connect, to teach, to bond. a final tidbit about the slayer class before I move on: if you would really like to play into the enemies to lovers trope with one of the vampires, I would highly recommend giving your player this class ((that's all I'll say))

so: saturday, that takes us to the bar, where each class will get a unique scene, similar to how the scheming tactic section worked in the original game. we're gonna finish up the encounter with the first vampires, meet our guild pursuers and move to the bar. I'm planning also to implement the character customization here—(sort of a way to prep before the player heads out to the bar.) most likely won't get to all classes by saturday's code, but after that, I'm planning to release again on next wednesday, so we're keeping on track. I'd really like to give a full picture of customization for the player character, with all the original options for physical appearance (i might keep clothes vague for now though and let you dress your character later on, until you get a taste of the inventory/bartering system-—you have to deal with MY poor fashion choices for a little bit.) but that being said, about character customization, if there's something that's lacking here and you'd like to suggest an addition I'd be all ears. This is what I'm planning to implement so far:

skin tone

body type*

hair color

hair texture

hair length

hair style**

height

skin details (acne, scars, vitiligo, rosacea)

facial hair

make-up

piercings

eyewear (glasses, no glasses, eyepatch, prosthetic eye)

gender-affirming customization (for ex. use of binding)

* a note on the body type section, I kind of had this idea of digitally drawing some silhouettes of different heights, shapes and sizes, and allowing the player to click through arrows to select a rough estimation of what their body-type might look like. I'm going to do an art dump later this month, and I have a few sketches of what I'd kinda like to do with that, but I'm still toying with it, because even that could be a little limiting in terms of options. if any of you had thoughts on that, I'd love to hear them.

**I think it might also be cool to kind of have drawings of different hairstyles available to the characters, arranged in the card formats like the previous gender options in that same red colored sketch format.

speaking of art though--and this is purely tangential so I apologize, I'm sure you've taken notice of some of the art being repetitive--for the moment that's purposeful. I'm planning to commission some work for the cards to be implemented in a later update--so what you're seeing are just placeholders for now.

okay! with saturday's notes out of the way, plans for the rest of the week. I need to finish the timeline and then I need to make it readable to people other than myself. it is currently incomprehensible and of the few people that have gotten their eyes on it only one (1) could make sense of my mad ramblings. (shout out to friend of the game bianca from exiled from court if any of you are familiar with her or her stuff, we are  big bianca fans here.) After that I need to do some edits with the new update and such, and poke at the code.

Tonight after I post this, I'm specifically working on sending a few more emails to betas (know that sending emails is. my personal hell because of intense social anxiety. BUT we must persevere. emails will be sent tonight.) after that, I have to work on the phillip/kc/sam schedule + calendar for this month, just to keep the three of us on the same page. I'm in the process of looking at some stamps.com printers for sending out packages with this next round of physical rewards and ordering the merch (hehehe)

okay. super long update for our first one of the year, but I am so excited to get to keep working with you guys :) i'd like to thank you all for your continued support and I can't wait to show you more of the little universe i've crafted :)

until friday! i'm gonna be posting some cyrus asks/scenarios for you all to enjoy, so look forward to that! <3

[annahxredaxted]

Random Headcannons

•••

sweetheart crochets during road trips cough cough

Angel is a wizz at sewing, and mixes and matches hoodies all the time david secretly loves it

When baabe and sweetheart first hung out via the wolf boys they were surprised bc they were besties in 7th grade

Darlin is damn near fuckin blindddd but they wear contacts bc they think glasses make them look less intimidating but Sam think their cute with them.

Milo once saw a pigeon poop on Asher’s head and said absolutely nothing.

Sam only drinks coffee if it has honey in it.

Vincent Hates coffee tho

David only takes cold showers- unless angels with him then he can bear the heat.

Sweetheart doesn’t have daddy issues- fuck they call their dad every night, it’s their mommy they have issues with.

Aaron likes to pretend he didn’t have a MySpace account.

Smartass can whittle/carve, they made Aaron a mug with a butt on it.

Sweetheart has legitimately Every Nancy drew book

Laskos a slut. (Jk that’s already cannon. )

Gavin’s favorite ice cream is pistachio.

Milo doesn’t know who the majority of A-list artists are, but K-POP artists? He will list them all alphabetically

Baabe dislikes Plaid.

Huxleys favorite cereal is that cookie cereal with the wolf.

Asher says “mommy? Sorry Mommy? Sorry”(gn) when he sees baabe.

Freelancer collects bugs, and keeps them in little glass containers in an extra room- Gavin usually avoids said room.

Speaking of which, Gavin’s an arachnophob.

Baby (Ollie) is constantly quoting vine

Ollie is a floofy boi.

Sweetheart was a Hugeee nerd in MS/HS. I mean band kid, chess captain, class president, DnD the full length

Guy knows every word to JAWNEYs music. He went batshit feral, when It’s never fair always true. Came out

Honey is allergic to honey.

One time in high school some one bet angel they couldn’t memorize the shrek script in a week, guess who came hollering about swamps a week later?

[princess-leaorgana]

What Tieflings Do Chpt. 3

Summary: After the takedown of The Absolute, Zelphie finds her city in need of more help and her home destroyed. She won't stop helping, but who can help her?

Rolan x Tav (Zelphie; ~30y.o AFAB, Sorcerer, Tiefling, not really described physically on purpose <3)

M/F

Author's Note: I fucking love tielfings. Along with this being a budding romance/smut/fluff/word vomit fanfiction, it's also my case study in DnD 5e tieflings, how they act, what sets them apart from humans and devils and elves. That being said, I have a few artistic liberties in here as well where I couldn't find a straight answer, if you'll amuse me.

Warnings - Spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3, alcohol consumption. This bad Larry is another fluff. Don't worry! Also, if you catch the easter egg in this one I'll give you one lil forehead smooch.

Chapter One Chapter Two

One tenday spent in the luxurious wizard’s tower in Baldur’s Gate. The shop was still a little chaotic, but it was open for business and Rolan was hiring out for help. He had Cal and Lia and Zelphie, of course, but Cal and Lia and Zelphie were not learned spellcasters. Zelphie had the best understanding of the Weave, but she couldn’t understand conjuring the Weave manually. Rolan would attempt to spend time with her, teaching her how to read scrolls and tomes, but she was absolutely useless. And during their private lessons, Zelphie was usually very distracted with her strongly budding feelings for her teacher. That absolutely destroyed her concentration. Nothing had yet happened down that road, and it had almost been too long for Zelphie to feel comfortable bringing it up. She left the siblings that day to head out into the city. She had a few things to sell and was in the market for a redecoration for her room. Larroakan’s taste was high class but cold and dark. The room was beautiful, but it needed more love. She hadn’t done anything about it until then as she still had a gnawing feeling in the back of her mind that she wasn’t to stay with the siblings. She would get an occupation of her own and allow the family to be one again. It didn’t seem like that was going to happen. Lia would scold her if she ever brought it up.

Old potions and elixirs and small trinkets she had picked up on the road were sold quickly for decent coin. Anything she had that was impressive she donated to Sorcerer’s Sundries to either use or sell. Rolan fought with her on that, but she insisted it being a complimentary rent for now. Rolan still fought with her. 

The streets were still a mess, but a livable one. People were back to life a little. It wasn’t normal, but it wasn’t apocalyptic. After a decent amount of shopping and many compliments from people who recognized her on the street, she headed for some lunch. She hadn’t seen any of the other tieflings since the battle, and she was very ready to see some happy and familiar faces. Lakrissa, an absolute menace of a thief, had gotten a job at The Elfsong Tavern, the nicest spot in the whole city for a pint and relaxation. Zelphie was very excited to see if her friend was there today, and if she had time for a drink. Walking past two hired hands at the entrance, she was met with the most people she had seen at the tavern. Good, she didn’t want any more compliments, she just wanted to be a normal patron. As she made her way to the bar, to order from the barkeeper, Alan, Zelphie stopped as she heard her name shouted.

‘Zelphie! The beautiful hellspawn who saved Baldur’s Gate!’ Lakrissa, the little shit. Zelphie’s nose scrunched as attention in the tavern fell on her. She turned her head to see Lakrissa sitting on a patron’s lap of all places and she was looking right at her, her arm raised in the air. Zelphie got a cheer and shook her head, staring at Lakrissa. ‘The person who buys our hero her first round wins also buying a round for me!’ She announced to roaring laughter. Lakrissa hopped off her perch and walked over to Zelphie. ‘There you are, hero,’ she said and Zelphie sighed.

‘Here I am, thank you for the announcement, pity, you used to be my favorite,’ she said and took an empty seat at the bar. Lakrissa laughed at her. Alan walked over with a glass full of ice and an amber liquid. ‘Hello Alan,’ she greeted the bartender and she gave her a charming smile.

‘Where’ve you been then? I need you to find me that Minsc fellow. Rented a room here after you all left and started fighting for coin in there. He owes me,’ he said and Zelphie laughed.

‘I wish I could say I bear responsibility for Minsc, but I’ll do my best to settle his debt,’ she said and smirked.

‘So, how IS your favorite, hm? Heard you got a room at the wizard’s tower,’ Lakrissa said, sitting next to Zelphie. Zelphie turned back to Lakrissa.

‘I got very lucky, Lia caught me while I was wandering the streets like a tom cat. I could barely stand. My place was absolutely decimated, I’m surprised the tavern is still around,’ she said and took a sip of her drink. Rum. She hissed and looked up at Alan. ‘It’s barely after breakfast,’ she said and Alan just grinned.

‘You are very welcome,’ he said and walked off to help another patron.

‘Come on, tell me, tell me,’ Lakrissa said and shook Zelphie’s leg. She took another sip and laughed.

‘What is there to tell? It’s not like before I wasn’t constantly on the move. I have a big beautiful comfortable bed to sleep in with a roof over my head. I get fed three times a day AND I’m bathing every day. I am living the high life,’ she said and Lakrissa shook her head.

‘Yes, that big beautiful bed, whose is it?’ She asked, leaning in. Zelphie leaned in with her, smirking.

‘Mine,’ she answered and Larkissa scoffed.

‘Either you’re a tease or Cal is a liar,’ she said, straightening up. Zelphie knew what Lakrissa was getting at, if involved Cal. Although nothing had really happened between her and Rolan and she would have liked for something to have happened, Cal was not being subtle at home about trying to get the two closer. She would have loved to be closer to Rolan, of course she would have, but she wouldn’t allow her new home to be ruined by those feelings. She would rather have good friends than anything.

‘Cal is a liar, but who said I’m not a tease?’ Zelphie said and Lakrissa laughed.

‘Oh, there she is. Gods I’m glad you are alright,’ she said and Zelphie smiled at her.

‘The feeling mutual,’ she said softly. The rum was getting to her quicker than she would have liked. ‘How is Alfira?’ She asked and Lakrissa smiled.

‘She’s perfectly fine, a little set back with her big plans, what with the total destruction of the city, your fault,’ she said and Zelphie nodded and laughed.

The two caught up and Zelphie was given a second drink and was quickly feeling silly. Lakrissa was forced to end her little break and Zelphie left the tavern, hungry and drunk. She walked very slowly back to the tower. On her way back, a little gray kitten began to follow her home. Zelphie swayed when she knelt down to pick up the little sweet thing. 

‘Oh hello you little fella,’ she said and lifted the kitten in her arms. ‘You must be starving, come let’s fill that belly of yours,’ she said, deciding in her drunken state that she would adopt this little kitten. It clung to her with its little claws and Zelphie cooed down at it. ‘Oh aren’t you sweet?’ She said and rubbed the kitten’s chin. She continued to walk to Sorcerer’s Sundries and she moved out of the way of a very upset looking half-orc. She stumbled into the shop happily, her eyes and all attention still on the kitten. 

‘There you are, I almost sent a search party out for you,’ Rolan called from the counter and walked over to her happily.

‘Look what I found Rolan!’ She cried happily and held the kitten up. Rolan’s happy face turned to concern as he looked at the little kitten in Zelphie’s hand. ‘He followed me home, isn’t he sweet?’ She asked and Rolan sighed at her, giving the sweet little kitten a pet.

‘Have you been drinking?’ He asked her, not ready to entertain the topic of the kitten until he squared away why her eyes were so sleepy looking and why she was swaying a little.

‘Yes, Lakrissa made me, but I guess she didn’t really because I did it anyway,’ she said with a snicker. ‘Only two rum drinks, but you know me, cheap date,’ she said and giggled and Rolan smirked a little.

‘I don’t know that about you, in fact,’ he said and she giggled.

‘Yes, because you’ve never taken me on a date,’ she said and poked him in the chest. She was plastered.

‘Alright, alright, up to bed with you, come now,’ he said, escorting her upstairs.

‘I said I was a cheap date, not an easy one,’ she said and barked out a laugh. She leaned on Rolan and held the little kitten close to her. Rolan burned red, but would ignore her. He wrapped an arm around her to keep her upright. She was loving that sensation. She was aware that she was drunk, and as obnoxious as she was, she wouldn’t make him angry. ‘Is it okay that I have a kitten? A little familiar? I can’t have a real one you see, I didn’t go to school,’ she rambled.

‘You’re fine, I’m sure with everything you’ve accomplished a cute kitten wouldn’t be much of a leap in responsibilities.’ He said and Zelphie giggled.

‘You do think he’s cute? Oh good. I always knew you were a cat person. All good people love cats. The real good ones, because dogs are all lovely and good but dogs love you unconditionally. Cats, cats are as smart as people and are choosy, so I say anyone who can get along with a cat is a good person,’ she rambled on and hiccuped. She felt his thumb rub her arm and the warmth and comfort of his touch led her tail to curl around his.

‘Yes, I do think he’s cute,’ Rolan said simply. Zelphie's attention went back to the kitten, who was very happy to be held. Zelphie scratched the little one under his chin. He was a perfectly gray cat with a small tuft of white on his chest. He was going to need a bath.

‘We are going to get you all cleaned up my little one, and we’ll feed your hungry little belly,’ she cooed and stroked the top of the kitten’s head. ‘How has the shop been today, and who was that lady who was leaving the shop so angry when I came in?’ She asked Rolan.

‘Oh, I’m very glad you’ve been off today, the amount of disappointing interviews I’ve had today…’ he said, tutting. He was much more comfortable talking about this sort of thing, others bothering him. ‘The last one, she claimed to be a cleric of Helm. More like a Paladin of Cyric the way she bumbled about. She couldn’t even bring a desert plant back to life. I’m not looking for a prodigy, but if your god doesn’t give you gifts, there is nothing I can do for you,’ he said and chuckled. Zelphie shook her head, Rolan was lying. He would only want the best in his shop. Perfection at the bare minimum. ‘We did find a budding wizard. She’s a bit under motivated, but I’m sure with my teachings she will flourish in no time,’ he told her and Zelphie put on a little pout.

‘Ah, so our lessons are all over? You’ve given up on me?’ She asked him and he looked down at her and laughed at her silly face.

‘Not even a little. I’m going to get you to master prestidigitation one of these days, I promise,’ he told her and she smiled. She hummed and looked back down at the kitten.

‘I’m jealous of your new apprentice, you’re a wonderful teacher,’ she said and Rolan sighed down at her.

‘Oh, do not be jealous. If she doesn’t perform, she’s out. You on the other hand, I’m too stubborn to let you quit,’ he told her and she smiled to herself. Was she jealous of this person she’d never met? A little. Would she keep up whining at Rolan? No. Did she want to? Yes. The pair got to Zelphie’s bedroom and Zelphie walked in, placing the little kitten on her bed.

‘Now, that’s nicer than the streets, isn’t it?’ She asked the little kitten.

‘Did you want help with him? He certainly needs a bath, I’m not even a fan of him being on the bed,’ Rolan said and scooped the kitten back up. Rolan did like cats, which was great for him; the streets of Baldur’s Gate were littered with them. The kitten took to him quickly, purring and rubbed his face hard against Rolan’s hand. Zelphie giggled and removed her bag and outer jacket.

‘I would love some help. And it looks like he loves you Rolan,’ she said and walked over to the pair. ‘Did you have cats growing up?’ She asked and Rolan nodded.

‘Yes, a lot of cats. Mother spoiled me a lot. She called me sensitive. I used to hate it when she referred to me like that. Like I was weak, but I know now what she meant by it,’ he said, still enjoying petting the kitten. ‘She meant that I was sensitive to others. Those smaller or weaker than myself. When someone needed my help,’ he continued and Zelphie’s smile grew.

‘Like me,’ she said softly and Rolan nodded.

‘Yes, you have the exact same instinct as me. You understand people who need help,’ he said and Zelphie shook her head.

‘No, no, I mean, I’m one of those people who needed your help and you gave it so freely,’ she said and walked closer, reaching out to pet the kitten. Rolan looked down at her and raised an eyebrow.

‘It was a privilege to help you, Zelphie. I finally had a way to pay you back for everything you have done for me. And my family,’ he told her honestly. She looked up at him and chewed on her bottom lip a little.

‘And when will this help run out?’ She asked him softly and he raised his eyebrows.

‘I don’t know…’ he whispered after a moment. ‘But when it does, I ask you to help me out once more by continuing to stay here. Because you being here, it’s more…a selfish want than a payback,’ he admitted and Zelphie’s eyes grew. There was another little silent moment and then Rolan looked back down at the kitten. ‘So,’ he cleared his throat and Zelphie’s eyes fluttered a little. She had been lost, sweet words from Rolan and two glasses of straight rum were an easy recipe for a mindless Zelphie. ‘Shall we start with his bath in the sink? You can’t get their ears wet, I think we’ll have better control of that in the sink than the bath,’ he told her and she sobered a little and nodded.

‘Oh, yes, yes, that’s a good idea,’ she said and the two walked to the bathroom together. She turned in the tap and walked to her bath for soap to use on the poor little kitten. She grabbed two towels as well, one for the inevitable mess and the other for the kitten. Rolan tested the water and held the kitten under the water, holding his scruff. The kitten immediately wiggled and cried. ‘Oh, no no, it’s okay, it’s okay little one, you’ll feel so much better,’ Zelphie cooed and helped get the kitten wet quickly and lathered up some soap. Rolan used his free hand to stop the kitten from swatting Zelphie. He was getting a few cuts, but was about as stubborn as the kitten was. The bath was very quick. The vermin and dirt and whatever else was in the little guy was removed and Zelphie scooped him into a towel, wrapping him tight. He kept crying. ‘Now now now, this is better, hm? Nice and warm, oh lucky you,’ she said and walked out of the bathroom, cradling the cat. ‘You can watch me take a bath later, you’ll see it’s not so bad,’ she continued to talk and Rolan walked out with her. ‘Thank you so much for helping. That would have been a fiasco if I had tried it alone,’ she said and Rolan grinned.

‘You did most of the hard work,’ he said and she shook her head.

‘Let me see your hand, cat scratches are awful things,’ she said and he gave her his hand with a little hesitation. She reached out and lifted his hand up, closing her eyes. ‘Te Curo,’ she whispered easily and with a cool blue flash of light, the scratches were gone from his hand as was the growing itching sensation he was getting from the cuts.

‘Well, thank you,’ he said softly and Zelphie smiled up at him.

The pair helped the kitten get as dry as possible and Rolan led Zelphie to the sitting room so the kitten could be in front of a fireplace. Zelphie began a fire as Rolan sat on the floor and let the kitten out of his towel wrapping. The kitten took his freedom happily and shook his body of water and took to licking the rest off.

‘I’m glad it’s still light out, he’ll be dry in no time,’ Zelphie said and sat down next to Rolan.

‘He’s a lucky little thing, finding you of all people,’ he said and looked down at Zelphie who smiled. She felt her own tail curl up happily. She scooted closer to Rolan and with all the liquid courage she had left in her system, she leaned against him gently and looked over at the kitten, who was fervently grooming himself. Rolan froze a little, the feeling of her body against his. She had leaned on him earlier because she was drunk. She was still drunk, wasn’t she? ‘H-how are you feeling?’ He asked her softly and she smiled.

‘I’m perfect,’ she said, meaning it. Was there a little rum floating in her head? A little. Enough to be a little sleepy and a little bold. But not enough to ruin her senses. The screams of a kitten in a bath had sobered her up considerably. But besides that, she was sitting in front of a fire, very close to a person she trusted and adored. Watching a kitten groom himself. She had no complaints. There was another moment of silence before Rolan’s arm coiled around her waist, holding her a little closer. Zelphie’s heart did flips in her chest and her tail found his quickly. She felt Rolan’s lips in her temple before he spoke.

‘Yes you are,’ he whispered and Zelphie felt the warm rush again. This time, she wouldn’t let it hang. She turned her head to look at him properly. He was looking right down at her, his yellow glowing eyes, his strong and sharp features. Zelphie wouldn’t remember who moved first or who moved the most. She just knew that both of them had and the pair kissed. Simple as that. Had it been too soon? Had it taken too long for such a simple, lovely little thing? It didn’t matter, it was happening, and Zelphie felt every spark of electricity in her body zap her skin. She refused to break this kiss. She had been wanting to kiss Rolan for a very long time. She felt his hand on her cheek and then the absence of his lips. He placed his forehead on hers. ‘Was that alright?’ He whispered softly and she nodded, a little speechless. He was more than alright, he was everything. She reached up again, needing to be back in their first kiss. A first kiss for lovers, what a dream. He kissed her back and she gave way to a grateful sigh. She felt his fangs against her lips, she could taste him. Her heart was beating terribly quickly.

‘How long have you been hoping to do that?’ She asked him softly, their foreheads and noses still connected. She was no longer drunk from the rum, but drunk from something else entirely. He grinned and nuzzled down against her.

‘A while…a long while,’ he admitted. She giggled in response. ‘Please tell me you’ve felt the same.’

‘Yes, if only you hadn’t hated me so much,’ she said and he laughed.

‘I did hate you, though, I’ve always been a supporter of the fact that hate and love are not mutually exclusive,’ he told her and her heartbeat quickly. He didn’t mean what he just said, of course. He couldn’t have. Love her? Love her. Not like that, certainly. ‘Because I do, I do love you, I cherish you. And I’m a fool for trying to hide it. I only wanted to make you comfortable around me, I…but everyone is so quick to poke and prod at my feelings for you, I wasn’t very good at hiding them,’ he told her. She felt his thumb rub her cheek gently. She could have melted into a puddle.

‘It shows you have respect for me, but you’ve made me comfortable Rolan. I trust you. I-‘ she said quickly and chewed on her cheek. ‘I love you too.’ She finished and looked into his eyes. He was as close as another person could be. She giggled again and he leaned down to kiss her again. Love. Real, trusting and respecting love. She’d never had that before. Love was more than kisses in front of a fireplace, love was bonding, understanding, trusting, wanting, caring. She would count what she and Rolan shared as love. But like lovers, they had that one more inch of feeling. For did she not love Lia and Cal? Yes. Did she love Jaheira and Gale and Shadowheart and Karlach and Wyll? Yes. Rolan was a different love, with that extra special something that made her stomach flip. He was handsome, he had a velvety low voice. He was commanding and mighty stubborn. Zelphie was attracted to him and it was clear, in the very least, that Rolan was also attracted to her. It was very nice to feel him want her. His hand holding her cheek, the other holding her side, holding her close. Possession. She felt fiery. She was all his. She placed a hand on his thigh and she heard him sigh out. She didn’t want to start anything else, but she did want to touch him.

‘Too, too long. You were right. Wizards are stubborn,’ he said and she laughed. ‘I should have done that ages ago, though…I don’t know if it’s stubbornness or the fear that…I was wrong about how you might have felt about me,’ he continued and Zelphie just kept smiling.

‘I’m glad for your new bravery,’ she whispered softly and Rolan took a minute and spoke again.

‘This isn’t all because you’ve been drinking, is it?’ He asked, clearly nervous about asking that. His voice quivered a bit and he was quick with his words.

‘No, but that’s a very kind question. No, listening to him screaming was enough to sober me up,’ she said and glanced at the kitten, who was still quickly attempting to lick himself dry. She laughed at the sweet sight and looked back at Rolan. ‘Like I said, I’ve been feeling a special way about you for a long while now, Rolan. Since the party, actually, back at our camp…’ she said and Rolan’s eyes widened. She laughed again. ‘Well, you were happy and a little silly, it was a very nice side of you to see,’ she said and Rolan’s smile widened.

‘Well, I can’t blame you then,’ he said playfully, Zelphie laughed lightly. ‘But…silly? Mmmm not my favorite word,’ he said and Zelphie laughed.

‘Then don’t act silly when you’ve had too much wine,’ she told him and he chuckled. ‘But you know, I feel very lucky to see a more relaxed side of you,’ she explained and Rolan nodded.

‘If you see me relaxed it's only because of how you make me feel, my dear,’ he told her and she smirked. My dear. It wasn’t the first time he had called her that. It was very sweet, maybe a little too innocent and careful, but too careful was better than too strong.

‘Now that is the best compliment I think anyone has ever paid me,’ she said and he laughed.

‘I don’t believe you, but I’m going to pretend you’re telling the truth,’ he told her and glanced at the kitten. Still going at himself. Poor little thing. ‘What shall we name him then?’ He asked and Zelphie looked at the kitten.

‘Surely Rolan Junior,’ she said and Rolan barked a laugh.

‘No, gods no, please do not call it that,’ he said and Zelphie hummed a laugh. He looked down at her and shook his head. ‘No, I know that look, I forbid it, both you and the kitten will be street urchins again,’ he told her and she laughed. She leaned over and scooped up the kitten who grumbled a little and went back to his grooming.

‘He is as stubborn as you, it appears,’ she said and Rolan smirked.

‘Hush you,’ he said softly and kissed her temple. She leaned back on him. This was very nice.

‘Ronald,’ she said and he laughed.

‘Please don’t,’ he said, his lips still her hair.

‘Rolanda,’ she added.

‘Zelphie.’

Silence passed between the two of them, Zelphie thinking and enjoying the moment, Rolan’s face buried in her hair. What was he thinking about, she wondered. Was he as happy as she was? She hoped he was, for she was very very happy. She continued to think about a good name for the kitten, no more teasing Rolan. After a moment she gasped.

‘What?’ He asked her, as if she had woken him up.

‘Elminster,’ she said and he laughed loudly and looked down at the kitten.

‘That is the most offensive way to honor Mystra’s chosen,’ he said and she grinned and rubbed the top of the kitten’s head. The poor thing was only concerned with drying himself off. Rolan sat up straighter and held his hands near the kitten, his hands beginning to burn hot. They stayed still together and very quickly the cat dried up. Zelphie looked up at Rolan and smiled.

‘Thank you,’ she said and Rolan smiled.

‘Lajy,’ he said simply. Zelphie blinked at him. Lajy was Infernal, Infernal for love. ‘I used love just then to conjure that heat. We should name him Lajy.’ He used love to dry off the kitten, wizards had to use emotions and memories to call upon The Weave, and Rolan has just used love to burn his hands enough. She smiled up at him, feeling as warm and as comfortable as she could be. She leaned back on him and his grip got tighter on her. He held her while she held the little cat.

‘Lajy,’ she repeated and stroked the kitten’s newly cleaned fur. He felt Rolan leaning against her temple again, their horns clinking a bit. Rolan’s horns were incredibly graceful, almost economical in their shape. They were large, but they swept back and up, out of the way. Zelphie’s were less economical. They went up and out. She found it very difficult to lay on her side at night, and with Rolan so close, she wouldn’t move, as if she did, she might take his eye out. They found a perfect position and the nice peaceful moment was only interrupted by the sound of a hungry belly. Rolan would blame it on Lajy.

[catharusustulatus]

Maybe it’s bad to hyper-fixate on one actor but I am so excited for Joe Keery to have bigger roles. I think he’s so great in Fargo this season and I look forward to his upcoming 2024 and post ST slate. It’s high time he’s been cast in some big tentpole films. He leans indie in his choices, which I respect, but dude. Put him in Greta Gerwig’s Narnia. Make him a knight. Put him in a sequel to the DnD movie that came out this year. Make him a cute bartender that’s thrown into a secret plot to steal government info because he’s in the wrong place wrong time. Father son drama. Road trip movie where he falls in love. I could go on….

[felixora]

sooo I finally redesigned my dnd/bg3 OC Arnafein

(and this totally is not connected to me being annoyed at 20+ reddit comments under one of my artworks saying "omg your tav looks so much like mine" anywaaay)

All posts with him will be tagged #arnafein

An overview (because I'm not sure if I'll come around translating my twitter thread about Arno and his family from Ukrainian to English):

Rogue (Soulknife)

Comes from drow house Rilynghym, son of the Matron Nathiira. Main members of this family possess strong psychic abilities.

Spent most of his life with family on the road/as part of the criminal underworld, but in the last decade he and his family have been living in Neverwinter among high class.

Back when he was still a small child, but his family was already cast out from Ust Natha, he and his older sister Maliara were kidnapped on the surface world by slavers, and only by becoming a warlock to time entity Nathiira managed to save them. (Arno has scars from shackles as reminder of that)

After that Arno and Maliara have living under caring yet strict, and sometimes overwhelming watch of their mother, who wanted them to have a better life than she. With Nathiira's abilities to predict the future from her warlock pact, she often looked into her children's future, to stray them away from possible danger - yet her children knew nothing of this. (see "helicopter parent" for better idea) ("helicopter parent but make it drow")

On the one hand, Nathiira was protecting her son from dangerous things and activities of their family and guiding him to a normal carefree life. On the other hand, she severely suppressed any attempts he made to help the family, questioned his skills and ability to be useful in their outings, and (when they had already become part of high society in Neverwinter) literally pushed him to attend social events of aristocrats to secure the family's status (Arno hated them because of the excessive attention from upper-class representatives, but he could not go against his mother's word).

(mommy issues? yes-)

Before the events of BG3, Nathiira sent some spies to investigate strange activity in Baldur's Gate, yet none of them returned. Then Arno volunteered to discreetly check out their whereabouts. Ensuing argument with his mother (who prior to this once again foresaw her son's future and saw the possible abduction on nautiloid) led to Nathiira ordering to put Arno in a prison cell and chain him up for the night for him to "cool off".

As this reminded Arno of his childhood, he finally decided to go against his mothers will, and escaped both the cell and away from his home, determined to find out on his own what happened in Baldur's Gate and prove once and for all that his mother can rely on him and treat as an equal.

And yet, he did get captured by the cultists, and the following acquiring of the illithid tadpole messed pretty badly with his psychic abilities, leading to partial amnesia.

And that's where he is at the beginning of bg3.

[fanficfanatic000]

bad habit love

Bad habit love Eddie Munson x best friend fem reader

Based of song

18+

You and eddie have been best friends for years you've always loved him and he always loved you but neither of you knew And you both go to high-school and prom is coming up.

"Princess?!" The messy haired metal head said while waving his ringed hand back and forth in front of your face "What? Edds" You said "well love we were in the middle of a conversation then you dozed off" "oh. Sorry eddie what were we talking about?" He chuckles to himself "i said are you coming to dnd tonight?" You shake your head no "sorry eds i got some homework thats due" you grabbed your books from your locker and walked away. Eddie follows you "no problem ill see ya afterwards though? Cause i found a new horror movie we could watch" he smirks "Yeah sounds good at your place " you wink at him "okay ill be of hellfire at 5 so just wait for me " he says running off He's always had a charm about him . He goes to hellfire club but then Mike brought in your replacement for the night Chrissy cunningham she liked eddie so of course she flirted with him he was skeptical at first because of his feelings for you but he knew you don't like him that way so he asked her to prom afterwards. . It's 5:10 and no eddie to be found You sighed "nerd club probably is just lasting longer then usually" Robin said to you. "Yeah probably… go ahead eddie will be out eventually" 5:40 you go back in the school and you see eddie and chrissy talking in the halls he looks to almost be out but you can't help but get upset. Jealous. Hurt. Sad. So you just decided to walk home. Well run home Eddie walks out of the school wondering where the hell you are then he checked the time 6:00 "fuck munson get it together" she probably got a ride home from Robin.. he thought to himself… he gets in his van and drives down the road then he saw you walking on the sidewalk to your house he pulls over and got out "Princess?" He says walking up to you "Eddie?" "Princess why are you walking home this late alone?" "Well umm….. i just decided to" "Why?….." he looks at you concerned "Well you were late and i didn't want it to get any darker so i just walked." "Im sorry my sweetheart. Do you still want to watch the movie or?" "Eddie im tired take me home" you kinda snapped at him But you were trying not to cry infront of him and just seeing him makes you want to cry.

The next day: You wake up and put on your ripped black jeans with a hellfire t shirt that you ripped into a tank top and put on your eyeliner and waited for eddie to pick you up 5 minutes later he pulled up "looking good Princess" he winks. But you rolled your eyes and couldn't help but smirk a little Last night you just accepted the fact that of course eddie would want the cheerleader not some nerdy girl he is friends with. Silence the whole ride to school He got out and opened your door "so you going to steves party tonight?" "I thought i might.. robin wanted me to" "Well now that you're going i will be there .ill give you the ride" "Yeah but first you'd have to take me to my house to get ready beforehand" "alright"

After school eddie is waiting for you to co.e out of your house Then you did wearing a pretty little black dress with layered necklaces and combat boots "R-ready gorgeous?" "Yep" eddie is wearing a black button up with the top button undone. Damn he's so sexy without even trying

At the party: Outside at the pool side This fucking asshole has been chatting about something stupid for hours and eddie is chatting with chrissy and you've had a couple beers And you got hit by a heat wave you grab the asshole infront of you Jason carver and you throw you and him in the pool Eddie sees as you come up his hands all over your soaked body the dress clinging to you and the dress lid down just enough to reveal the color of your red bra Jason picked you up and puts you on the ledge of the pool and trys to slide your dress farther down until eddie picked you up like a bride and carried you to his van "fucking asshole" he mumbles he puts you in the passenger side and got in the driver seat "fuck Princess what has gotten into you. Youve been distant and You got drunk and started to come on to jason come on you know someone like his is gonna take advantage of you when you're like that" "like what eddie?!" "Well when you get drunk you kinda get……….horney…..and usually you come at me with it not some stupid asshole Cause i know you.. you dont mean it so im okay with it but not when you go to someone else" "not like it matters eddie you dont care " "i do care because i dont want someone to hurt you you're my best friend…" "yeah well you were distracted with chrissy so i didnt come to you " You thought about telling eddie. He already hurt you so no more damage can be done at this point He took you to his trailer so he could take care of you. He picks you up and carries you in. Of course wayne works at night so that wouldn't be a problem. Eddie set you on his bed and tossed you a shirt one of his then he turned around as you took that dress off and put the shirt on. And it hit you eddie probably will do this with chrissy. Will probably put his hands on her and then tears start running down your face… Eddie turns around. "S-sweetheart why…. are you crying….?" You smile "i-i im not its fine…." "Princess..? What's wrong?" He sits next to you not knowing he's the one making you cry "eddie i think im just tired" he knew you weren't just tired you lied he thought Jason carver what did you do to her You and eddie just lay next to eachother for the hundredth time of course because of you and eddies late movie nights

Day of prom: You wake up remembering everything of course eddies not next to you but then you hear a girl voice coming from his living room then you hear him "well i'll see ya at prom bye chrissy" "then you needed to escape so like any normal person you put your boots on and climbed out his bedroom window and walked your ass home still in Eddie's shirt. "Fuck" you whispered looking in your bedroom mirror You hear ringing and you awnser "y/n you going to prom its robin ya know your other best friend " "fuck i dont have a dress that isnt at eddies house" "okay well take a shower ill be there to go dress shopping" . After dress shopping: you bought yourself a nice red dress sure to wow everyone not just eddie…red his favorite color… but also yours.. you did your makeup and you were ready . Prom: robin and her girlfriend gave you a ride then ran off and disappeared… and you were alone. No date. No friend even then eddie walked through the door he had a black suit with a blood red tie just as you imagined and his arm around chrissy she's wearing a short blue dress she's stunning and it killed you cause you know what happens prom night…. you walk to the one person you know has forbidden alcohol Gareth eddies band dnd friend you never really talked but you and him had a type of brother sister complex "i need the strong stuff " you say handing him a 10 dollar bill "Fine ill let you have a discount this time" He usually charged 20 dollars but this time you got lucky. You fucking chugged the small bottle of alcohol tiny enough to fit in your purse. Then eddie saw you as he was walking to the punch with 2 red solo cups "Sweetheart what the hell happened youve been weird lately like avoiding me and shit " "eddie im fine you probably need the free time " then Jason walked through the door and eddie still thought he might of did something to you so he rushed him grabbing the collar of Jason carvers shirt " what did you do to her?!" "Look freak i didnt do anything to your girlfriend." "Shes not my girlfriend shes my friend now what did you do" chrissy watching looks horrified "EDDIE jason did nothing to me i promise" eddie looks at you and then let go of jason "then what… what is it?" "Eddie j-just enjoy your prom im fine…" your voice broke as you started to cry and ran away out the school doors You walked outside and just sat on the sidewalk and cried "Sweetheart? Please tell me whats wrong " he tilts your head to look in his eyes as he is seated next to you. His eyes were dark and worried "look eddie i have had feelings for you this whole fucking time.. i know you dont feel that way about me but ive always been fucking stupid… i kinda thought maybe you'd ask me to prom but you asked chrissy cunningham the pretty cheerleader… i-i cant blame you im just a nerdy girl you hang out with cause you're bored…." He looks at you his eyes looking at you intensely "Princess i didnt know you felt like this Why The hell would you!? Your beautiful, smart, funny, and hot as hell why would you want the freak? I-i didnt know you were an option" "an option?" You look at him annoyed "no i mean i didnt know i could be with you if it did i-i" he grabbed your waist and leaned you down and climbed on top of you " i would have done this sooner" he kissed you softly but needy And you kissed him back "Princess i love you" his metal rings on your coverd waist made you feel warm and fuzzy "Eddie!" You squealed as he took you to his van in a swift movement and he hopped in passenger and put you on his lap "I wish I knew you wanted me. my girlfriend ?" "Yes eddie im yours all yours"

@avintagepumpkin