#tiefling!astrid

[selabee-doodles]

Astrid, my tav, maybe not the smartest in the bunch, but she makes up for it with her positive attitude and strength! tbh, the wii music plays in her head 24/7.

I've only just started getting into dnd by watching Critical Role, so I had no clue what made a paladin break their oath. So after accidentally attacking the tieflings that trapped Lae'zel, I was so shocked that it broke the oath. I was so broke after I renewed my oath :')

[illastrologist]

Zhenya & Astrid

not platonic, not romantic, but a secret third thing. . .

[sserpente]

Blood on a Silver Platter

Synopsis: You are a human slave forced to serve your master the night he hosts a dinner party for some special guests. Only when you meet Astarion, you realise that the reason you were bought was not for your services... but for your blood.

A/N: Whoops. Oh dear, what is this sassy vampire doing on my blog? Seriously, I started playing Baldur's Gate 3 two nights ago but I've been obsessed with Astarion even before that. If you follow me on that fancy picture app, you'll know I've met Neil before and I can't emphasise enough how much of a sweetheart he is. He truly has a hand for these sassy characters, haha! Have fun reading!

Words: 1749 Warnings: blood, feeding, slave!Reader

Astrid didn’t like new girls. They were shy, terrified, angry, and stubborn and they knew nothing about how this place was run, where the dishes, the cutlery, and the crystal wine glasses were. But how would you? You had a right to be terrified. You had a right to be angry. How else would you feel, sold and enslaved like cattle or a piece of furniture?

Ezekiel, your new master, had made it very clear to you from the very beginning that you were easily replaceable if you did not obey. Human slaves did not sell for much in these parts, for they lacked strength, agility… and longevity compared to other species. You could not argue with that—and that made you even more furious.

He was hosting a dinner party tonight, a group of travellers if you’d heard correctly. Of course, none of you were supposed to ask questions. You were merely there to serve and make them comfortable. You sighed. You had been on your feet all day, preparing the feast and preparing the table.

By the time Ezekiel received his guests, Astrid was screaming the place down in the kitchens. She was not a slave—your master paid for her services and left her in charge of the girls he bought to do the dirty work for them. You hated them both.

Right after the main course was served and the guests began to eat, Astrid handed you a jug of red elven wine. Her ice-cold eyes bore into yours. “Ezekiel asked for you specifically to serve the wine before the main course. Do not speak unless you’re spoken to. Refill the wine, keep your head down, and leave, is that understood?”

“Yes.” You gnashed your teeth, biting back a snarky remark when she pushed you through the doorway and you almost spilled the expensive alcohol on the stone tiles to your feet.

It was the first time you got to lay your eyes on Ezekiel’s mysterious guests. None of them were human, not at first glance.

There was one with green skin, another with red skin and horns protruding from their forehead… a tiefling… one of them, however, stood out to you the most; he was sitting at the head of the table. His short blonde hair was wild, complimenting those sharp ears, the pale skin, and his eyes… red pupils.

You quickly looked down when you realised your master noticed your rude staring, refilling their wine glasses as instructed by Astrid. The blonde man’s gaze bore into you the closer you got to him, intrigue apparent on his face.

“Well then, my honoured guests. Dinner is served. Enjoy your meal. That goes for you too, Astarion. I hope she is to your satisfaction. I got her from the slave market only three days ago.” Ezekiel leaned over to another slave girl. “Take that jug from her.”

Astarion. You did not fail to notice that his plate was the only one that was still empty. But you realised a moment too late what exactly your master’s words entailed. The slave girl you handed the jug to was only slightly older than you but you didn’t even know her name. All you knew was that the both of you dreaded what Ezekiel had in store for you, for as soon as your hands were empty, Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him.

“Why, hello, darling.”

Losing your balance, you stumbled, landing on his lap. He was quick to snake his arm around your waist to keep you from escaping. He buried his free hand in your hair and tugged on it hard enough to force you to reveal your neck to him.

Your eyes widened when you caught a glimpse of his fangs right before he sank them deep into your throat, breaking the skin. You flinched, the burning sensation quickly turning into a pulling pain that had you shaking on his lap, and then… the panic kicked in and dug its claws deep into your guts.

Pushing your palms flat against his chest, you attempted to push yourself off of him, your survival instinct getting the better of you. You winced when the pain intensified and Astarion pressed you even closer against him as he drank from you. His lips on your neck sent shivers down your spine and the more you fought, the more he seemed to be enjoying himself.

It felt like an eternity and as your body grew weaker, your determination to drive a stake through his heart grew with each passing second.

Finally, Astarion released you. He licked his lips, red with your blood, an almost lascivious noise escaping him. When he let go, you slid off of him with the last of your remaining strength, almost toppling to the floor in the process.

“Hmm… thank you, darling,” you heard him say. “You taste absolutely delightful.”

You did not turn around to see the smug expression that would match his tone on his face. Instead, you hurried back to the kitchens with trembling limbs, processing what had just happened. Your mind was near empty. As if along with your blood, he’d sucked every other thought from you as well. You swallowed thickly.

He bit you. He drank your blood. He almost killed you. He used you like a living blood bag. Was this why Ezekiel had bought you?

“Where is the new girl? I asked her to do one simple job, for the love of the gods!”

“Astrid, I’m not sure she…” It was the girl who had taken the wine jug from you who spoke up. She knew that something bad would happen, she must have. You had seen it in her eyes when your gazes had crossed.

“I’m here now,” you croaked out. Your throat was dry. You didn’t want to go back out there. Didn’t want to help serve dessert, didn’t want to face him again after what he’d just done to you with everyone watching as if it didn’t concern them, eating their fucking stag steak for dinner.

“A-Astrid… would… w-would you mind s-serving dessert, p-please?” you chirped.

“And what do you dream of at night?” She came barging in from the pantry, arms akimbo and practically fuming. You swallowed thickly, clenching your fists in a weak attempt to control your shaking. It was with great satisfaction that you noticed her face fall when you turned around, revealing the small trickles of blood running down the fresh bite mark on your neck.

Her eyes widened. You were quite certain you had never seen her stutter before.

“Go… you can… g-go wash up. I’ll take care of the desserts.”

“Thank you.” You nodded, rushing past the other slave girls, all of them staring at you with widened eyes, and barged into the small washing room adjacent to the kitchens. A dirty kitchen towel would have to do to wash the blood off of you.

With trembling fingers, you rubbed at your sensitive skin until almost all evidence of his assault was gone before leaning over to wash your face. You used the cleanest-looking part of the kitchen towel to pat yourself dry before you took a deep breath and opened your eyes again—facing Astarion in the mirror right behind you. The gasp that escaped your lips echoed through the almost empty room. Instinctively, you stepped back, only to realise a fraction of a second too late that you would bump straight into his chest.

The vampire grabbed your arms and flipped you around fast so you’d face him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Hello there,” he purred. “No need to be so frightened, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. It was the amusement in his voice that had you seethe, anger pushing your fear out of the way for just a moment. “Of course not. Why would I be? You only just bit me and drank my blood like I’m some sort of snack.”

“Oh but are a snack,” he retorted, chuckling. “And you were quite a delicious one too.”

You stared at him. “What do you want?”

“I want you to come see me tonight.”

Frowning, you processed his words. He couldn’t possibly mean…

Astarion laughed. “You are looking so frightened again. I promise I will make it worth your while.”

“And if I don’t want to?” you whispered. You were a slave—your question was entirely redundant. It wasn’t like you had a choice. Ezekiel had practically delivered you to Astarion on a silver platter.

“Well, Ezekiel expects me to kill you tonight.”

You felt your heart plummet.

“I understand it he only bought a human slave for the occasion. To satiate my hunger and for my… entertainment tonight. Surely, he is aware how feeble mortal lives are, it is almost a waste to invest in human slaves.” You gnashed your teeth. “But there is an alternative,” he continued.

“What alternative?” you snapped.

“I could use a travelling companion. A… loyal blood slave, so to speak, and I must say I did not expect human blood to taste so delightful.”

Your frown deepened. A blood slave… to a vampire, following him like an obedient and lost puppy… you would rather die than give up your body like that. But was it truly worse than serving your current master knowing he had killed former slaves for dropping plates before? Knowing that the sole reason he had purchased you was to please one of his guests?

One thing was certain—you did not want to die and at least… he was quite handsome, was he not?

“What do you say, dearest?” Astarion’s brushed his knuckles against your cheek. He took a step forward, pressing you against the doorframe and trapping you between the solid wood and his strong body.

You sucked in a deep breath when he bent your head to the side, revealing the bite mark he had left on you. You prepared for another rush of sharp pain tearing through your neck, squeezing your eyes shut in response.

Instead, you felt his tongue dart out to taste you with a start, licking over the wound.

“There… all healed. For now,” he added with a sly smirk. You frowned, your hand flying up to feel your neck. He was right. The two little holes where his fangs had punctuated your skin were gone. And yet… his sly smirk was a silent promise that this was only the beginning of your time together.

A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥

[dent-de-leon]

We've seen how confrontational Astrid and Essek become at the mention of Caleb, all the bad blood that still lingers--all the wounds left behind by the Cerberus Assembly that still fester, their warring ideals and beliefs, the immense danger and risk they each pose to one another. To Essek, Astrid and Wulf are forever entangled with the root of Caleb's trauma, inexorably intertwined. And when Astrid ascends to her seat as archmage of the Cerberus Assembly, it only furthers Essek's mistrust and wariness.

And just...thinking of how Kingsley starts flirting with Caleb immediately, falls in love with his dear Magician all over again. Essek who saw all the cruelness of Lucien, and yet is still so taken by the Nein's love for Mollymauk--the soft words of comfort and gentle forehead kiss Caleb gives him.

He's moved to tears by Caleb's own gutting grief, his heartbroken goodbye and loving tenderness. Essek who cries out that, "It's not fair"--how relieved was he, when the tiefling started to stir? When Caleb threw his arms around both Essek and Veth as he looked on at his Circus Man with such warmth and affection--"and watch the others descend on Mollymauk."

Essek and King running into each other over the months, over the years. Essek growing accustomed to the charming rogue's affections, the way Caleb always indulges him. King who never misses the chance to flirt with his Magician, playful and teasing, pretty words and a tender kiss on the forehead. Essek who is startled when Tealeaf starts to treat him the same, throwing his arms around the other wizard and insisting they go out for drinks.

Essek being able to connect with another friend who fell for Caleb, bonding over their mutual affection and ridiculous adventures with the Nein. Essek seeing someone else who loves Caleb--but would never hurt him, someone he trusts and grows to care for. Two of Caleb's partners bonding and becoming close, all three of them building a little life together--

[aeoris4lovers]

it’s very important to me that, in the years following campaign two, jester’s two families slowly become combined as marion unofficially adopts more and more of the nein.

it starts with fjord, for obvious reasons. he was already going to be her son in law anyway, but once she finds out he doesn’t have parents of his own, she fully absorbs him into the family, insisting he needs to eat more and adjusting his clothes before he leaves and playfully scolding him for not keeping in touch often enough. fjord doesn’t really realize what’s happening until he and jester come to visit her one afternoon and she calls them “her babies.”

caleb is a close second. she’s had her eye on him since the night they all spent at ryn’s place in the fire plane, and it doesn’t take long for her to put together why he looks at her and jester spending time together the way he does. caleb, like fjord, doesn’t realize what’s going on for some time — not until he accepts a teaching position at the academy, she gives him a tight hug and tells him how proud she is, and he can’t help but think about how much it reminds him of his mother’s reaction on the day he was accepted into the academy.

next is kingsley, who (though he would never admit it) frankly needs all the surrogate parents he can get to give him a crash course in how the hell to be a person. anyone watching them would have no problem believing they’re family — not just because they’re both tieflings, but because they exude the energy of a mom very insistently loving a teenager who acts annoyed but secretly likes it — and kingsley is the first to actually start calling her mom.

from there, the family just keeps growing until it encompasses basically all of the nein — even essek and, some time later, astrid and eadwulf are taken in. caduceus and veth never fully get the same parenting treatment (caduceus has a perfectly loving family of his own and veth is more like the family’s wine aunt that marion hangs out with when they get together), but their families essentially become like lavorre extended family and they still get included by default when she yells to babenon that “the kids are here!”

and speaking of babenon, he has absolutely no intention of getting wrapped up in any of this. he wasn’t even planning on being the father to one child, and sure, that didn’t go to plan, but it stops there. one (ridiculously charming and nigh impossible to resist) child is more than enough. marion can be a mother to the rest all she wants, but he’ll have no part in it. his family is just her and jester...

...and that lasts for all of a few months before it starts to fall apart. the more he commits to doing the dad thing with jester, the more it starts to spread to the others when they’re with her. and who could blame him? it’s impossible not to start seeing them that way when marion won’t stop calling them “the kids” or “our babies” (or, when they’ve done something particularly stupid, “your children”). if there’s one force in the universe that can match the power of jester’s cuteness, it’s marion’s love for her kids; his will is simply no match for the two forces combined.

sometimes a family is a famous courtesan, her long lost love who runs a massive organized crime operation, the child they secretly had together, that child’s adventuring party, two party members’ pre-existing families, and the formerly evil strays the party took in.

[munsons-mutiny]

I’ve had this headcanon forever and it’s just never come up anywhere, so I figured it’s time to write about it.

Caleb’s spell that he makes for Veth, Widogast’s Transmorigification, has major implications for Exandria’s trans population! This could be the magical equivalent of top or bottom surgery only it’s down to a biological level! I’m sure they’ve had their own procedures, but a body that you can personally design does seem like an upgrade from whatever technology/magic they have available!

I like to believe that Caleb doesn’t think about the spell in that context at first, why would he? It was designed for someone with a different type of body dysphoria, and he doesn’t interact with too many trans people (at least that he knows, I have no clue if he knows about Yussa, and they haven’t seen Bryce in ages).

But once he starts teaching, and establishes himself as a safe space for queer kids (you can’t tell me the empire is super open minded, especially their most prestigious traditional institution) the application becomes obvious. The first time his favorite student, a small purple tiefling named Aza who reminds him so much of Molly it hurts, comes to him mid-breakdown because of how bad the dysphoria is the solution just immediately pops into his head. He could fix this for her, give her the body she should’ve been born in.

He comforts her the best he can and then calls a meeting of the lgbt club he has set up (it’s run under the radar to make it safe even for students who aren’t out to their peers yet). Where he gives a presentation on the spell, and it’s capabilities, even has Veth come in to show the results and have her talk about her experience and if there had been any side effects.

A couple students in the room cry at the possibility, some remain uninterested, but many are enraptured with the idea.

In what seems like the blink of an eye Caleb has suddenly become an underground queer hero, he starts performing the spell free of cost to anyone who wants it and is above the legal age (you just have to help dig up the clay if you can). Ends up having a whole medical procedure to the spell, where he takes them to the blooming grove (which I imagine has plenty of clays heheh) where it’s peaceful and they can talk everything over with caduceus before and after. Who can guide them through their feelings much better than Caleb though he always tries his best. He always offer the option to go back as well (though they have to wait a year, which is of course stated beforehand) if it isn’t the solution they were hoping for.

(Totally off track but I fully believe Caduceus ends up super involved in Caleb’s queer club, there’s so little aro ace rep and seeing someone whose so confident in it would be so helpful for them, and I think it would be so comforting for Caddy to see others like him and to know he’s not alone in that)

They keep the whole operation quiet, but it spreads silently throughout the queer community, Astrid even stepping in a time or two to keep it off the Assembly’s radar (She may be straight, but she’s poly with a bi partner, and I believe she’ll use her powers for causes she believes in for better or worse. Thankfully this is one of them).

There’s still discrimination against the queer community, but this quiet movement starts to spread to the point that almost every member of the nein is involved. Beau uses her connections at the Soul to get new documentation for people with proper names and pronouns. Yasha starts running Rexxentrum’s first self-sustainable lgbt safehouse for kids with nowhere to go (the garden is incredible). Jester and Fjord turn Fjord’s old orphanage into a second lgbt safehouse after he gets it shut down. Veth adds lgbt education to her camps curriculum, and is an advocate for same sex healthcare in the Nicodranas school system. She has a tunic that says proud mother of a bisexual wizard that she wears a little too often much to Caleb’s chagrin. Even Kingsley (illegal pirate king that he may be, my beloved) ends up becoming as involved as possible in Caleb’s group. Loves learning more about gender identity, and becomes the first Plank King to be openly gender fluid (probably who knows, I don’t know much about Darktows history but I def didn’t get super queer vibes). Makes sure Dark-Tow is accepting of all who turn to piracy, and imposes harsh laws against discrimination.

Essek looks on all of this with pride, so proud of Caleb and even the small role that he got to play in the spells creation. It’s the first time he gets to see something he helped with create good in the world. With Caleb’s permission he ends up sneaking back into the dynasty and leaving a copy of the finished spell on the Bright Queens desk, with a big created by Caleb Widogast across it (with whatever the wizard equivalent of copyright is). In a culture that centers around rebirth in different bodies, the idea that you could choose to have your original body back is a big deal. Dysphoria after consecuted individuals get their magic back is a huge problem within the dynasty, and it does Essek a lot of good to know that he’s done something actually helpful for his country.

Basically this got super long winded and out of hand, and I know Matt has largely cut homophobia, transphobia, and non-fantasy racism from Exandria but this idea would just not leave me alone!! And either way the spells implications for a gender affirming procedure are still super relevant.

[panderp123]

I finally got BG3

Here are my Tavs

Bridget: Half-Elf Warlock (fey patron) Romance w/Gale

Astrid: Tiefling Barbarian. Romance w/Karlach

Daymein: Tiefling Druid. Romance w/Halsin (maybe Astarion??)

Raven: Human Ranger. Romance w/Wyll

Felix: Human Bard/Warlock. Romance w/Lae'zal

Zak'din: Durge- Zak is a drow but I liked the features on the half-drow. So he is a Half-Drow Rogue. Romance w/???

Please note I have only got as far as ACT 1 on all these characters just to get the prologue out of the way.

Astrid & Bridget are on their way to Moonrise. I’m still playing around with dialogue options on the other characters. Also figuring out romance options 😂

Mini Life Update

I’ve followed the game for so long and finally got a PC that can run it. I hope to stream some of this stuff soon we are just in process of moving house. 🙌💙

I’ll update you all with stream info and fanfic info as I do plan on continuing one of my many unfinished fanfics. Writers block sucks.

Hope you’re all doing well 💙

[critter-rarepair-reccs]

Happy Wednesday everyone! Today we have eight fics in modern settings for you all! Have a look at them below the cut and if you end up checking some of them out on ao3, please don’t forget to leave kudos and comments! 🩷

Having Trouble Breathing In by Torchiclove (17,445 words, Teen) Pairing: Keyleth/Pike Trickfoot (Pikeleth) Warnings: None

‘The paramedic would take her breath away, if the asthma hadn’t done it for her.’ Keyleth falls for Pike in a modern AU.

Reccer Says: Enjoyable and well written fic of Keyleth falling for Pike in a modern AU. Explores Keyleth as a character with anxiety and it's a great, gentle depiction of falling in love with great characterisation despite the rare pair.

Live your whole life on a might-have-been by Chrome (2,681 words, Teen) Pairing: Veth Brenatto/Caleb Widogast (Widobrave) Warnings: None

Just a very short and atmospheric peice set in a modern au where Caleb and Veth met at university, and he’s driving her part of the way home for the holidays.

Reccer Says: I can’t describe the feelings this fic gives me. It’s understated and bittersweet and so full of longing that you’ll want to die. It feels like a Hemingway story almost with the way it manages to pack so much meaning in between the words the characters actually say.

And I became hypnotized by freckles and bright eyes by SunshineAndaLittleFlour (1,007 words, Teen) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: Drunk kissing

Molly didn’t realize he probably shouldn’t be kissing someone else’s partner until after he’d already started doing it.

Reccer Says: This fic, this whole series in fact, is absolutely wonderful! Its fun, flirty and emotional as well as smutty and one of the best stories/series for the purple boys and their ginger partner. Always a delight to read and this fic starts an awesome series off wonderfully!

softly, softly by maricolous (837 words, Teen) Pairing: Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf (Fjolly) Warnings: None

Fjord comes home from his shitty retail job to Molly, his roommate-turned-partner. They make out about it.

Reccer Says: It’s very cute and sweet, with a side of what feels Fjolly-typical horniness. It’s a fun little fic!

if we were a movie by burningdarkfire (8,800 words, Teen) Pairing: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett (Beaujes) Warnings: None

Jester decides to try and set Caleb and Essek up and ropes Beau into it. Cue many “friend” double-dates, a classic disaster lesbian Beau crush, attempts at coping with it, delightful romcom nonsense, a fun side of Shadowgast, and a very sweet ending.

Reccer Says: It’s silly, it’s fun, it’s heartfelt. Everyone’s voices are so on-point and every moment Feels like them. Beau is a mess and I love her, I want to squish Jester in my hands, and the wizards are menaces of a side pairing. Also the conversation between Beau and Essek at the maid cafe is so good.

candy hearts (so sweet on you) by thaumasilva (5,149 words, General) Pairing: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett (Beaujes) Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Implied Stalking (not between Beaujes)

Beau keeps visiting the gift wrapping station at the mall to get her Winter’s Crest presents wrapped, and the cute tiefling working there keeps giving her candy hearts with flirty messages, or: Three times Beau wanted to ask Jester out, and the one time she didn’t have to.

Reccer Says: It's just a sweet as the name implies, aaaa it's so cute

Intervention by VioletTeaTime (1,965 words, Teen) Pairing: Fjord/Caleb Widogast (Widofjord) Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fjord intimidates the guy bothering bartender!Beau’s favorite customer into taking a hint and leaving. Then he gets flirted with and Beau complains about having to watch.

Reccer Says: ace fjord my beloved <3 also the boys' background friendships with Beau are very sweet

all actions and reactions by grayintogreen (2,879 words, General) Pairing: Astrid Beck/Jester Lavorre (Jestrid) Warnings: Depression, Burn-out

One of her friends suffered a breakdown, the other found religion, and now Astrid Beck, suffering from burnout and stress and a myriad of other things a pre-law student can suffer, has found the cherry on her misery sundae. Someone keeps buying all of the cinnamon scones she loves, and now she must end them.

Reccer Says: An amazing translation of the characters into a Modern AU, and surprisingly sweet

Thank you for joining us for our second recc list! All the love to everyone who submitted a fic 🩷 All enclosed recommendations were submitted by the community via our submissions form, which you can find here. All fic information is as it was provided by the reccer, so it may not be accurate to the author’s intent or the precise contents of the fic itself. Please assume good intent from all parties 🩷

Submissions for next week’s list are already open! We’ll be featuring Whump. If you have any you’d like to highlight, you can send them in here. The week after that, the theme is Pre-Relationship, and you can also submit fics for that now!

If you want more rarepair fic, check out @cr-summer-wildflowers and their event collections on ao3! If you want some friendship after all this romance, take a look at @critter-genfic-events and their recc lists! And if you’re interested in everyone’s favorite wizards, you can’t go wrong with the lists at @aeor-is-for-reccing !

Thanks all and have a lovely day/night/timezone! 🩷

[haru-sen]

Breaking His Silence Pt 2

Finally got around to finishing this, a mere 4,865 words later, lol.

CW: Smut, biting, some blood (have you seen those teeth?), misunderstandings, Warlock Tav is a dumbass.

Part 1

“You spent all that time chasing me around.” You rested a hand over the one still fisting the front of your robes as you sat astride Zevlor. “Well, you caught me, Hellrider. Now what?”

He stared up at you, shock rendering him mute, those flame-colored eyes wide. It was hilarious really.

He smelled like smoke, metal polish, and that sharp clean scent of divine magic that made your nose twitch. He was not a conventionally handsome man, almost too lean, with sharp features, and deep grooves in his face. But you liked the look of him. And well, there was something very appealing about all that strength leashed behind tightly wound reserve.

You held onto the fist gripping your collar, your other hand resting on his cheek. He burned hot under you, and you rather wondered how he would feel without all this metal in the way.

“I realize that you are not happy with me, Tav. But that’s no reason to humiliate me like this,” he said, his voice steady, though there was a tautness to his words. He very carefully reached up and pried your hand off his.

You let him move your hand, tilting your head to the side. “This isn’t humiliation, Zevlor. But if you’re interested in that sort of thing, I have some ideas.”

He flinched, averting his eyes. “You’ve made your point.” His fingers brushed yours, a light version of Laying Hands on you. Cool energy traveled up your arm as he healed your wounds. “You can let me up now.”

“But you didn’t answer my question,” you chirped, leaning over so you were nose to nose with him. “What do-”

A leg hooked around yours, and Zevlor raised his hips, unseating you with far too much ease. You toppled over, flipped onto your back, with Zevlor sitting astride you.

You grunted, flashing him a pained smile. “Well, if you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was-” And then to your shock, the tiefling paladin leapt to his feet and ran, leaving you on the ground, stunned. You sat up slowly, watching him retreat. The man ran fast even in armor. All that training paid off, for him anyway. Rubbing the back of your head, you stared after him. What the hell? You kissed him and he ran away? Godsdamned paladins and their weird chastity fixations. Rolling your eyes, you stood up, straightening your robes.

“Well, you certainly dominated that round,” Astarion chuckled, slinking out of the shadows. “You sent him running off in terror, his tail between his legs. That was rather vicious though, darling.” He gave you an approving smile.

“What?” you squinted. “What do you mean? He smote me! I just knocked him over. Sure, I hit him while he was down too, but that’s just strategy.”

Astarion’s brows went up. “I meant the kiss. You know that man hasn’t been touched in years. Taunting him with what he can’t have is an especially cruel choice.”

You crossed your arms. “Can’t have? Wait...that’s what he thought?” You blinked. “Huh.”

“Wait, you actually meant it? I thought you were annoyed with that relentless bastard,” Astarion’s voice went high.

“...I mean, I am,” you shrugged. “I don’t want to run laps or do push-ups with him. But sex is another story. Paladins have incredible endurance, and there is something truly delicious about corrupting the other side, you know?”

“Huh.” Astarion’s mouth hung open for a moment. He closed it slowly. “Well, there’s no accounting for your strange tastes.”

“So...to be clear, he ran away because he thought I was being disingenuous?” You rubbed your head, wondering how you could have been more obvious.

“I don’t know what’s more disturbing, the idea that you would lead that poor man on for fun, or the idea that you would actually seduce him.” Shaking his head, Astarion disappeared back into the darkness.

“Hey, you didn’t answer my question, asshole!”

Astarion’s laughter echoed in the shadows.

Sighing heavily, you dusted yourself off and walked back to camp, considering your options.

##

The next few days around camp were incredibly peaceful. Zevlor avoided you. It seemed innocuous at first. Between investigating bizarre murders, fighting shapeshifters, and even a trip to the circus, you were focused on several other tasks.

But when you sat down to eat at night, Zevlor hastily left the fire.

When you walked by the training area, he quickly packed up his gear.

When you said “hi” to him one morning, he literally jumped, gave you a nervous wave, and practically fled to his tent.

“I think you broke him, darling,” Astarion told you as the two of you carefully wrapped the dead clown parts for storage. Assembling a jigsaw puzzle scavenger hunt was not the weirdest thing you’d done with a corpse, but it was a new experience. And a clown at that, truly degenerate stuff.

“You really think so?” you asked. “He survived years as a Hellrider, a trip to Avernus, an exile, a refugee caravan, being captured by the Absolute, reswearing his oath… No, that’s ridiculous, Astarion.” You laughed, shaking your head incredulously. “I did not break our paladin.”

“Darling, you’ve seen his face: the man is riddled with stress fractures. You’re just making my point: your teasing is the metaphorical straw that broke the tiefling’s back.” He chuckled to himself, setting the chewed up clown hand treat-o in rags, rolling it like a scroll, and then tying the ends of the bundle up in neat knots.

“He smote me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “He can’t be that fragile.” You put the tightly wrapped clown torso in another crate with the hand. You were not storing body parts with your clothes.

“The other explanation is that he’s playing hard to get,” Astarion said, giving you a truly evil smile. “You should chase him down and confront him about that, preferably in full view of the others.”

You eyed Astarion, recognizing the horribleness of that idea. You considered it anyway. Heh. Well, if Zevlor kept avoiding you, you would have to corral him. But unlike Zevlor, you knew better than to make a public spectacle of it.

##

That evening, Zevlor entered the barn through the side room, shutting the door behind him. You watched from Lae’zel’s tent, gave it five minutes, then followed him inside.

He was in civilian clothes, straddling a bench, running a whetstone along his sword.

You grinned, stepped inside, shut the door, and pulled out a scroll of Arcane Lock, sealing the only exit behind you.

“We need to talk,” you said cheerfully.

Zevlor’s head snapped back and he stared at you with wide eyes, like you said, “it’s time for the execution” instead. But then he very carefully sheathed his sword and stood. His tail swished back and forth as he met your gaze, jaw clenched. Without the armor on, he was a little slimmer, but the man still had a strong frame: broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs.

“Is that really necessary?” Zevlor said, taking a deep breath as he gestured to the door.

“You’ve been running from me so much, that I thought it wise to take precautions,” you said. “And because I’m nice, I didn’t start with Hold Person.”

Zevlor looked away.

You moved closer.

He backed up, averting his eyes.

You frowned, stopping. “What’s wrong?”

“You made it very clear that I should keep my distance or risk more humiliation,” he growled. “I’ve upheld my part of the bargain.” His nostrils flared. “I realize you’re angry at me, but this treatment is just cruel.”

You crossed your arms. “Hold on, what?” You squinted at him. “What are you talking about?”

Zevlor drew in a shaky breath. “I realize I was...too aggressive on the issue of training.” He looked down, tail starting to snap back and forth like that of an agitated cat. “I should not have been so pushy. I should not have accosted you that night.”

“Yeah, OK,” you said, not actually disagreeing.

“And you handled yourself well in the fight. But afterward, you did not have to shame me like that,” he said, closing his eyes, the words thick.

Afterward?

“...OK, now you’ve lost me,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. “I get that maybe I was a bit...aggressive too. Like, I guess I shouldn't have kissed you without your permission. But it was post-battle and you’d been chasing me for days. You smote me. I just assumed you were interested in stress relief.”

Zevlor stared at you. “That’s not- What?”

“What?” you cocked your head to the side, staring at him in confusion.

He moved his jaw a few times, like he was trying to make words, but they wouldn’t form. “That’s not what you said.”

“It is! What do you think I said?”

“That this wasn’t humiliation, but if that’s what I was interested in, you would come up with something else. I thought that was a warning to back off,” he said with some uncertainty. “I...did not expect such a threat from you.”

“Threat?” You gaped at him. “I meant if you liked sexual humiliation we could discuss limits.”

“What?” he blinked, his voice raspy.

“Zevlor,” you began very patiently, like you were speaking to a particularly dense child. “I assumed you had some power-dynamic kinks, since you come from a hardcore religious military background and engage in regular bouts of emotional repression and self-flagellation.”

Zevlor scowled at you. “That is entirely un-”

“Your many hangups aside,” you said, holding both palms out toward him. “Those details are something you talk about beforehand. I’m not just going to start slapping you around with a riding crop or begging to lick Daddy’s boots without any idea of what you actually want. Anyway, when have my threats sounded anything like that? That’s way too vague. I say things like “Time for a hug from Hadar!” and “I’m going to fucking kill you!” and “Fucking Dolor!” You know?” You grinned at him, hands still outstretched, palms turning upward.

The paladin looked at you, and then the sealed door, and then sank back down onto the bench, his gaze distant.

“That...wasn’t a threat then.” The realization dawned on his face as he spoke.

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head.

“That was actually a proposition?” he asked weakly.

“Oh yeah,” you nodded. “I mean, I thought I was pretty clear about it when I kissed you. What else should I have done? Try to feel you up through the armor?”

Zevlor groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“So yeah, umm...you wanna make out?” you asked hopefully.

Zevlor did not respond. He just sat there, hunched over, refusing to look at you.

You went over to him, crouching between his spread knees, so you could look up at his face. “Hey.”

Zevlor did not budge. Oh hells, maybe Astarion was right. Maybe you really did break the paladin. Fuck.

You gently pried his hands away from his face, grinning up at him. “You OK?”

“Don’t-” he breathed, turning away. “I don’t know what you want.”

You crouched there, resting your elbows on his knees. “I want to suck your dick,” you told him. “I think that’ll make you feel better too.”

He stared at you wide-eyed.

“If you’re interested, cast silence. I know I’d like to hear you, but since you’re so fond of using that against me, it seems right, you know?”

You stared up at him expectantly, waiting for him to pull away or say the words.

Zevlor carefully reached out, cupping your chin. “You...honestly want this?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

“Yeah, I’ll get on my knees and everything, if that’s what you want?” You flashed him an easy smile, realizing Astarion was correct. This man had not been touched in ages.

His breath hitched, and he pushed a stray lock of hair away from your face. “You don’t have to-”

You toyed with the laces of his trousers and then looked up at him expectantly.

Zevlor exhaled slowly. “Tap if it’s too much.”

You laughed. “Oh, so you have done this before. I was worried there for a min-”

Zevlor squinted at you, a wave of irritation pinching his entire face. “Silencio.”

Your ears popped and you laughed, no noise coming out. You dropped to your knees in the straw, carefully unlacing his pants.

A taloned hand gently massaged your scalp.

You didn’t look up at him, too interested in unwrapping your new toy. You carefully freed his cock from his pants, a little surprised that the paladin wasn’t wearing any underwear. Maybe it wasn’t just his martial greatsword that he came here to tend to.

Tieflings had patterns of ridges and bumps all over their bodies and Zevlor was no exception. He was only half hard when you started. You licked your lips and then ran your tongue along the crown, taking in the salty-musk of his skin. There was something different, sharper about how he tasted. The head was velvety soft, fun to swirl your tongue around, even as his fingers tightened their grip in your hair.

You looked up to see Zevlor still hunched over, those brilliant eyes watching you intently.

You winked at him and licked the underside of his cock, lightly squeezing the shaft as you ran your tongue from the head to his balls, feeling his thighs tense around you. The ribbed texture was interesting in your mouth. You expected it would feel even better somewhere else.

Zevlor shuddered, gritting his teeth. If there had been sound, you might have heard him growling. He was longer than you expected, thicker around the base, and heat began to pool in your core.

You squeezed his thigh with your free hand and then slowly took him in your mouth, relaxing your throat, eyes fluttering shut as you swallowed him to the hilt. You began to bob your head. Salty fluid leaked from the tip, and you groaned as Zevlor’s nails briefly nicked your neck.

But Zevlor was a gentleman. He held still, neither thrusting nor pushing your head down. You liked the way he tensed and twitched under your touch. Still, this would go smoother with some help. You reached forward, both hands cupping his ass as you started to try to get him to properly fuck your mouth.

Something brushed your wrist and you felt Zevlor’s tail wind around your right forearm as he started to slowly rock his hips. He moved with you, letting you set the pace. You were drooling now, getting him sloppy and slick, and one rough stroke had you gagging, but you didn’t stop. You had a goal now. You wanted to hear Zevlor. And to do that, you would need to break his concentration again.

Making him come would do the trick.

You gazed up at him, moaning around his cock. Even if he couldn’t hear you, he could see your face, see how you were enjoying him.

Zevlor’s eyes were half-open, his lips parted as you sucked on him. He gave a little tug on your hair, tilting your head back, so he slid out of your mouth, smearing saliva on your chin. The timidness was gone from his gaze. Maybe you had succeeded in sucking some of his sadness out through his dick. Good job!

He studied your face.

You thought he might kiss you, but instead he pushed two fingers down your throat, the corners of his mouth turning upward at your startled look.

You licked the digits, sucking on his fingers, and that smile tightened into something more feral and he pushed your head back down to his cock.

This time he did not sit back and let you lead. Fingers tangling in your hair, he began to thrust into your throat. Your eyes watered as he set a steady pace. He felt bigger in your mouth, his girth grazing your teeth, but that did not seem to slow him down.

You wished the silence was gone. You wanted to hear him. His voice was probably all raspy right now, and if his expression was anything to go by, his blood was running hot. You could just imagine the filthy taunts he had. Probably something about finally shutting you up and making good use of your smart mouth. Why had you suggested using silence again? Gods, you were dumb sometimes.

Zevlor’s cock twitched in your throat, and you had to work to breathe through your nose. His tail was still wound around your right arm, so you squeezed the base of it with your left hand, massaging the underside: tieflings tended to be sensitive right there. The man’s hips jerked forward, and you choked as he hilted in your throat, his nails digging into your shoulders.

You moaned, and even if you could not hear it, you stared up at him with half-lidded eyes, your lips wrapped around his wonderfully textured cock. It was thicker than you expected, and you gripped the base, running your tongue up the underside of his shaft, grinning up at him before you slid him back into your mouth. Then you squeezed the base of his tail again.

Zevlor bared his teeth at you, pushing your head back down till your nose was flush against his pelvis, before yanking your head back, pulling you off his cock.

His jaw clenched, he tried to turn to the side, already leaking pearlescent fluid from the tip. You leaned in, holding the base of is shaft and taking the head back in your mouth, in time to catch the rush of salty cum.

Your ears popped then, the silence bubble bursting.

Zevlor gave a strangled groan, his fists at his sides as you let him finish in your mouth. Panting, he stared down at you as you opened up and licked him clean.

“That pent up, huh?” you asked, your voice rough.

Still breathing hard, Zevlor nodded, his knuckles brushing your cheek. Tilting your chin up, he kissed you hungrily, tasting himself on your tongue. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t mind riding you, if you’re up for another round. Otherwise-”

“Give me a moment,” he growled, running his thumb along your bottom lip. There was a flare of holy magic and he cracked his neck, those orange eyes bright. He slid off the bench, into the straw, reclining on his back, giving you a nice view of his fully hard cock. “Are you sure you don’t want me to-”

“I didn’t waste time making this warming oil because it feels nice on weapons,” you said, plucking a vial off your belt. “Though maybe it does. Guess you’ll have to stab someone and ask them for me?”

Zevlor sighed, taking the vial from you and sniffing it before hesitantly pouring some onto his hands and rubbing it along his shaft. He groaned softly, those elegant fingers stroking his length.

“How trusting. You didn’t even ask what I used,” you said with a grin, taking the vial back and slicking up your own entrance. “Could have been succubus spittle.”

Zevlor snorted, giving you a sardonic look. “That would be your mistake to make. But it obviously is not. I smell cinnamon and ginger. Not sulfur and sweet decay.”

You laughed in delight. “Zevlor, how do you know what succubus spittle smells like?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said, the faintest smile on his lips.

“I always knew you were a kinky bastard,” you said as you straddled his hips, recalling the last time you were in this position.

“Do you really go around not wearing smallclothes?” Zevlor asked, apparently realizing that you were not joking when you said you weren’t wearing underwear.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You winked, then rubbed the head of his cock between your thighs, breath hitching as the blunt head slid inside you, then you took a few more inches of his ridged shaft. You sank down onto him, groaning at the stretch. His skin burned hot and while the oil eased his entry, you still had to take a few minutes to adjust to the fullness.

“No more smart remarks?” Zevlor purred. His tail wound around your thigh, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

“Is that a secret paladin technique? Who knew your dick could inflict silence on me?” You laughed, breathing hard as you squirmed on him, that ribbed cock rubbing against your walls with delicious friction.

“That would be a shame. I should like to hear you.” Zevlor gritted his teeth, gazing up at you with a hunger you had not seen before. You ran your fingers up his cross-shaped navel, over the ridges of his chest, your knees squeezing his thighs.

You rolled your hips, whining softly as you took him deeper inside you. “Hells, Zevlor, I thought you found me annoying.”

“You’re often irreverent and inappropriate,” he said, no bite in his tone. “But no, you don’t annoy me.” He gave you a wry smile, his tolerance likely increased because you were bouncing on his cock.

“Do I frustrate you then?” you asked with a sharp smile, leaning forward, close enough to kiss.

Zevlor’s gaze darkened. “All the godsdamned time.” He cupped the back of your head, kissing you hard, nipping your bottom lip with his sharp teeth.

You moaned into his mouth and then pushed off his chest, breaking free, not because you didn’t like kissing him, but because it would frustrate him. You grinned as he scowled at you. “So, are you going to tell me about the succubus spittle?”

Zevlor chuckled, gripped your hips, and thrust upward, a spike of heat driving into your core. “Is that what you want to hear about, Tav? Because I don’t need infernal aphrodisiacs to keep going.”

“Big talk, paladin,” you grinned, clenching around him, just to see him shudder.

“It’s not just talk, little warlock,” he said, his smile turning feral. “All that training I endure has its advantages.”

The leg hook took you off guard (again!), and you squealed as he rolled you onto your back. Suddenly he was on his knees, still sheathed inside you, one hand gripping your chin as he pinned you to the ground.

“Fuck,” you exhaled, gazing up at the paladin.

Zevlor regarded you with a harsh intensity that made you squirm.

“Say “stop” if you want me to stop. Otherwise,” he flashed you a sharp smile. “Lie back and enjoy yourself.”

Before you could make a snide joke about his unimaginative choice of safe words, he shifted forward, shoving your knees up against your chest, his cock sinking deeper inside you.

Folded in half, robes rucked up around your waist, you swore as he fucked you there on the floor like an animal.

He actually growled as he thrust downward, sweat beading on his brow, his eyes wild.

You whimpered as that thick ribbed cock stirred up your insides, driving too deep too fast, as you struggled beneath him.

“Zevlor-”

“I like how you say my name,” he rumbled, leaning forward to kiss you again, even as he drilled deeper into you, and you swore you could feel the impact in the back of your throat. He nipped your neck and you snarled, clawing at his shoulders while he kept up that rough pace. One hand moved between your thighs, stroking your sensitive flesh, making you writhe for him. “I wonder how much you can take, Tav. After all that teasing, I have high expectations. Don’t disappoint me.” He bit down on your ear and you shrieked. If the others didn’t know what you were doing before, they certainly knew now.

Pinned as you were, you did not have the leverage to push him off, to wrest control from the much stronger warrior. You could say “stop.” You could use magic. But you were getting filled with that thick textured cock and Zevlor’s calloused fingers worked between your legs, those fiery eyes fixed on your face with grim determination.

Fuck, you were getting despoiled...or just plain spoiled.

Astarion was absolutely right. Zevlor was touch-starved and desperately in need of relief, and you were the lucky fool that got to break his dry streak.

“You better fucking ruin me, paladin,” you purred, fingers digging into his hair, yanking him down for another rough kiss. “How else are you going to convince me of the merits of your argument?”

Zevlor’s nostrils flared. “You’re playing with fire, Tav.”

“Fun, isn’t it?” you murmured, sucking marks on his neck, and letting out the most obscene moans as he stretched you out, channeling all that frustration into your body, his thighs slapping loudly against your ass. “Don’t be that way. You have fire resistance.”

Zevlor’s low growl made you tighten around him. “You’re the one who’s going to get burned.” His fingers moved faster, that pleasurable friction twisting through you, shooting from between your legs, into your core, and up your spine, pulling needy whines from your throat. Your nerves thrummed, the lightest touch sending shivers through the whole network. Where his skin brushed yours, the heat lingered, pulsing through your limbs, adding another layer of sensation. This godsdamned paladin had you teetering on the edge of bliss, blessing you with his cock like it was the key to your salvation. If being good normally felt this good, maybe you would try it more often.

Or was it being bad to good people? You weren’t too sure right now.

“Zevlor, I’m close-”

He pressed his forehead to yours, keeping up that hard tempo. He closed his eyes, shuddering against you. For a moment, he did not respond.

You waited, savoring his rasping breaths, your strangled whimpers, the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of you.

“Where do you want my seed?” he snarled.

“Inside me,” you gasped, knowing that answer would hasten him.

Zevlor narrowed his eyes. “Then you’re going to feel me leaking out of you for days.”

You shuddered, vision flickering. You clawed at his shoulders, his arms, swearing as he angled his hips, the blunt head of his cock nudging that sensitive spot inside you. Even though he was just as on edge as you were, he did not lose focus. His hand kept up his ministrations between your thighs. His rhythm did not falter. The ridges of his cock seemed to imprint on your walls as he reshaped you to fit him. He was marking you from the inside. The dual sensations of being stroked and getting properly wrecked by the paladin’s cock pushed you over the edge, pressure breaking inside your simmering core. Back against the ground, you could only brace yourself for the onslaught. That moment when all the tension snapped, your body caught in the recoil, the orgasm intensified by the fact you were pinned in place. Keening, you clung to him as you fell apart.

He was only waiting on you. With a bestial roar, he sunk his teeth into your shoulder and you wailed as his hips stuttered against you, pumping his cum deep inside you.

“Fuck-” you sobbed, still clinging to him, despite the sting of his bite.

Breathing hard, Zevlor raised his head, his lips bloody and drawn back in a fierce smile that flattened when he saw the marks in your skin. Guilt immediately started to cloud his expression. “Hells, was that too much? Did I go too far?”

“I didn’t tell you to “stop,” you said tartly to avert the panic. “And if that’s all you’ve got, then I’ve sorely misjudged paladins.”

Zevlor wiped his mouth, his gaze harsh. “You still want more, little warlock?”

“Yes,” you hissed in his ear. “I demand it.”

“Te curo,” he murmured, the wound on your shoulder closing. Inside you, his cock twitched as he channeled divine energy right inside your channel. “Don’t complain when I break you, Tav, if this is how you ask for it.”

“It’s only fair, I keep breaking your concentration,” you laughed, sticking your tongue out at him.

He gripped your chin, his smile wide, and he rolled his hips, cutting off your laughter.

##

“...So,” Astarion said, not making eye contact as you emerged from the barn, brushing straw off your robes and picking it out of your hair. “Is there anything left of the paladin? Or just a desiccated husk?”

“I’m not you,” you sniffed.

Zevlor followed behind you, carrying his sword slung over his shoulder. He still winced when he ducked out of the barn, clearly sore from your shared exertions.

“Well, that was a rigorous bout of training,” you said, cheerfully limping toward the campfire.

“Is that what you’re calling it now?” Astarion groaned. “Yenna was asking some very interesting questions and as entertaining as it was to see Wyll spin a panicked tale or three, no one needs to hear the two of you going at it for hours.” He glared over your shoulder at Zevlor. “Tav’s an idiot, but a man of your experience should know better. Next time, be quieter.”

Zevlor sighed, looking quite put upon. “I would, but that damned warlock keeps breaking my silence.”

[selabee-doodles]

There's nothing like a game that awakens your urge to draw again.

[strayharmony943]

okay okay, me do questions about modern au!!!!

1: Who is the most likely to force the journalists or some of the others to dress up and model?

2: Scenario: Azren is a journalist, aura is a top researcher in an organization, and Astrid is a fashion designer. (Loads of money in the modern au 🤣) The bugs get a text from Astrid saying;

Astrids text: "Heyyyyyyyyy, can y'all help me out? Ive made some new outfits for everyone based on fav flowers and colors! And sooooo, I was wondering if....yoi could help me find Azren? Peace ✌️!"

How would your bug react?

3: Okay, this next one is after the bugs arrive at Astrid's studio, which is extremely large for some reason. And they also have their outfits on! (Y'all can decide what to wear if anyone draws these 😅🥲) And all the bugs see Aura dragging Azren out of the dressing room!

Azren: *A blushing mess* "AURA I AM NOT GOING OUTSIDE!!!!!"

Aura: "C'mon!! It's just and outfit!!!!"

Aura manage to get Azren out and he is being forced to wear a yellow and green suit with a moonflower pattern on it. Which also has a boob window cuz why not, I like embarrassing mah boi.

How do you think your bug would react!

4: I need outfit designs, cuz I plan on drawing these! Soooo, fav colo or colors r, fav flower, Name, type of style, anddddd anything else y'all want!!

Imma be having fun with these :3

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy @stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @recated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @astralbulldragon13 @lunnats @lightdragon789

:3

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Mighty Nein Reunited, Part 2

Gather ye wizards while ye may, though with the return to Campaign 3, we are finally headed to Yios, where there are wizards, once we finish with the Gloomed Jungles, where there are were-creatures, which are also very cool. The hierarchy is, as always: paladins; wizards; were-creatures; literally everyone else; dhampyrs, kalashtar, changelings, and "hey DM, can I play a tiefling bard with intelligence 7". But I digress.

Ludinus Da'leth: So at this point (ie, shortly post-this episode), Caleb, known bridge between the Cerberus Assembly and the Cobalt Soul, has taken a job at the Soltryce Academy, which means any efforts to make a new, slightly more palatable volstrucker program and quietly keep it from Archmage Becke are going to go straight out the window. The walls are closing in, and he doesn't even know that Jester can go to the Feywild. 7/10.

Astrid Becke: Caleb listened and took the job! That's one success in what's got to be a thankless new position in many ways. Also I still really want to know who the hell has become Archmage of Antiquity, or if the Assembly just writes that one off as "make a deal to bring back a powerful Age of Arcanum entity and raise it to godhood once, shame on you; make a deal to bring back an powerful Age of Arcanum entity and raise it to godhood twice, shame on us and also what the fuck are we going to do with two nickels in a society that uses gold, silver, and copper currency." 3/10; Astrid's doing better than she ever has in this tracker, and good for her.

Eadwulf Grieve: Caleb is still keeping him in mind, which is good, because he really is like...look, he's a wizard, so he's not dumb muscle, but compared to his two former lovers he's very clearly the 'And Peggy' of the bunch. On the other hand this means he's probably just organizing the Temple of the Raven Queen Yulisen Night Potlucks and inventing the Exandrian equivalent of Minnesota Hot Dish or something. 0/10.

Yussa Errenis: Is aware of the storm on the horizon. Is chilling in his tower. Is largely unbothered. Other people pointed out that while he has developed a reputation for fucking around and finding out, he has also technically never physically left his tower to do so, which is honestly impressive, but does explain why Beau did not have to bamf out a partially dissolved old wizard when she ended up in Uk'otoa's gullet. Anyway, glad he's keeping up with Caleb and making potions. 3/10, for being aware of the storm.

Allura Vysoren, whose name I keep misspelling: Yasha did give Kima back the sword, and Caleb doesn't seem to have her staff, and she helped make a new, cooler sword! 2/10 for League of Miracles reasons only.

Essek Thelyss: Still under a lot of political pressure, regardless of where he is...but he's also getting, as Figueroth Faeth would say, his kisses in, so better than I expected! 5/10.

Caleb Widogast: So here's the thing. It is, as the other post said, about the green beans. And it is, as my last iteration of this said, not time for deep Caleb meta in here. But I do have a lot of thoughts about the similarities between Caleb and Fjord, as I always do, and about how neither of them really had much of an understand of what happens in their life past That One Big Thing They Need To Do, having already woken up at some point and been like *Mitski voice* I used to think I'd be done by 20. I do feel that the Caleb Widogast of part 1 of this two-shot was truly a Caleb Widogast who could go either way re: the T-Dock usage, and the Caleb Widogast of part 2 of this two-shot is not; the event has not (in my understanding, at least) occurred but the decision has unconsciously been made. Also he's dating Essek and he gets to have Dragon Time, which sounds like Floor Time but better. He does get a 4/10 though, because he takes it upon himself to become the Mighty Nein's Social Event Coordinator. As someone who just had to cancel a carefully scheduled D&D session for tonight because I am sick but also the DM and if I have to talk for 2 hours while simultaneously using my brain I will cry, this is very stressful.

Veth Brenatto: Camp's going great! Only one kid died, and not permanently! 1/10.

Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk: Oh so the demigod leviathan CALAMITY SNAKE gets released from its prison beneath the sea, three seals in three temples broken in under 18 months, and yet, I, Halas Lutagran,

Bonus!

Warlock Breakdown Tracker

Fjord: For real? Who knows. I personally imagine that it does, as they say, briefly go to 11, because though Uk'otoa is dealt with and Zehir seems to have understandably gone "you are way too interested in love and the ocean for me to give a shit, I'm going back to bed", Fjord (not unlike Caleb) has to sit with the fact that he's done with that and he's happy OH GOD HE'S HAPPY WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE DO WITH THIS. Also he has to deal with the orphanage, which is going to be traumatic and unpleasant for sure, plus you know someone named "Grankton" is going to be holding a massive grudge against the world at large. But with time, it settles back down somewhere more reasonable, only to briefly spike and resolve again during Kingsley's little maneuver. So you know. Some numbers, probably.

[storiesbreathed]

it’s an emoji based starter call , ttrpg / bg 3 / cr / d20 edition! : react with one or multiple to let me know who you want a starter from, specify your muses if you are a multi! ( note : can and will adapt any and all characters into a bg3 & cr setting so if you have one you want, let me know )

also note : all of these will be put in a queue when i write them and will slowly be dropped onto the dash!

if you cannot send an emoji just toss out who you want :)

���~ allura vysoren  

🎶~ ariverane laraethahl ( bio [ bg3 verse tbt but is same as gen ] ) : drow. college of lore bard. runaway noble / haunted one.

🪄~ astrid becke

👊~ beauregard lionett

🦋~ binx choppley

🧚‍♂️~ joy brecklyn galliot (full bio tbt temp HERE ) : “fetch” ( fey replacement for stolen child ). fighter warlock. haunted one.

💰~ cyriel ( bio tbt ) : high elf. thief rouge. from the book kith & kin

🧙‍♀️~ delilah briarwood

🌸~ fearne calloway 

🌊~ fjord stone

✨~ gwendolyn zahra melanie von musel de rolo ( bio tbt ) : child of percival and vex’ahlia de rolo- tiefling sorcerer

⛈️~ imogen temult

🎸~ kaylie shorthalt

🧵~ laudna 

🟣~ laerryn coramar-seelie

🔨~ leona pike de rolo ( bio tbt ) : child of percival and vex’ahlia de rolo. rouge artificer fighter gunslinger. noble.

🌕~ lyriel ( bio ) bg3 verse tbt  : drow. champion of the moonweaver. bard / trickster cleric. noble.

🕸️~ opal 

☀️~ pike trickfoot 

⚡️~ tanila sommers ( bio bg3 verse tbt - similar to bio ) : fallen assimar. wild magic sorcerer. haunted one. daughter of kord?

🗡️~ vax’ildan vessar

🏹~ veth brenotto / nott the brave

⚔️~ wyll ravengard

[thequeenofmyownscreen]

No but this is hilarious actually, because it means that as soon as that fucker Ludinus unveiled his plans to his Assembly colleagues, Astrid must have gone into hiding, and it's just simply hilarious to imagine her discussing plans with Caleb, only for him (or... A certain lil' blue tiefling ??) to come up with the genius idea to hide her in a smut shop in Zadash.

[dent-de-leon]

All Caleb Widogast can taste is ash, the soot and smoke turning everything pitch black. Heat still searing the palms of his hands, boiling his blood. Before him a face burns, the flames cresting higher and higher, a roaring beacon in the darkness. The face is a stranger, eyeless sockets hollow and empty, mere kindling for the fire.

The face is his Mother, his Father. Astrid and Wulf and every good thing he'd ever burned.

He falls to his knees with a last, desperate cry--a curse, a prayer--begging for any and all gods to hear him, save him, change his wretched fate. All his life, Caleb Widogast had never known faith, never dared to invoke it. But deep down in the marrow of his bones, in whatever hell he's buried his heart, a part of him still clings to hope. Redemption. Salvation. An anguished plea for some force in this cruel world to set him free. Someone--anyone. Help me. Please.

And then, all at once, the world was quiet. He breathed with choked up, ragged gasps, and the air was clear--all the soot and ash drifting away. The roaring blaze dissipated into dying sparks and dull embers, just a winding cloud of smoke swallowed up by the chill night air, the smoldering heat at his fingertips going numb.

A figure stood towering above his prone form--a mere shadow one moment, but bathed in glistening moonlight the next. Curled horns glinted and gleamed with all manner of little baubles and golden charms, a forked tail darting out and swaying playfully behind him.

He's draped in a parade of vibrant color, ornate coat emblazoned with the symbol of every deity across the pantheon, the lining a sea of shimmering silvery moons. Each stitch of embroidery delicately woven with care, intricate beadwork and crystals glinting in the moonlight.

Caleb could see the Moonweaver's gossamer light in him, the way his eyes glinted with her playful mischief.

The tiefling spins and twirls with that roaring, ringing laughter, his coat fluttering in a blur of crimson as the wind kicks in. And before Caleb could protest, he's caught up in that wild dance; warm hands reach out and find him in the darkness, casting him back into the light.

And Caleb gladly welcomes that tender touch.

Hands joined with his partner, steps lighter than air. Caleb lets him take the lead, following after in a dance he's always known. He can't help but gravitate toward this shining soul, as inescapable as Catha caught in Exandria's pull. They beckon, and Caleb can only follow.

As their dance descends into its final steps, the tiefling whispers in his ear. A soft lilt to his cadence, charming and musical.

"Why so surprised, Magician? You asked me for help, didn't you?" A hint of amusement colored his words, warm and playful.

Not you, Caleb thinks, fleeting iconography of the pantheon flickering in his mind. This was not the noble Dawnfather, the Lawmaster, the Knowing Mistress--none of the…appropriate gods his family prayed to under the strict reign of the Empire. This was a heathen god, some interloper. One of the dangerous idols he was always warned about.

The stranger circled Caleb, eyeing him appraisingly as his gaze trailed over the wizard's haunted stare and torn clothes. The tattered, fraying bandages he'd stolen years ago. The fresh bruises just beginning to bloom.

Caleb backs away, unable to bear the piercing focus of that unerring gaze, the way this stranger could see his whole hollowed out heart with but a glance. His eyes--all his red eyes, shining bright--seeing everything.

"Who are you?" he demands, head held high, even as his voice starts to shake. What are you?

The tiefling advances. Drawing another step closer, a hand outstretched in welcome--all Caleb wants is to take it.

"I'm...a friend," he says amicably, bearing all his teeth in a sharp-toothed grin.

For some reason, Caleb isn't afraid.

Gentle claws skim his skin with the barest touch, drifting down his cheek in a fond caress.

"Your dreams called to me, Magician. You're...interesting, and I'm curious. And more importantly--you cried out for help. Do I need any other reason?"

His gaze, his voice--they soften, melt--soothing him as the glistening sky above bleeds away into inky black darkness. No starlight, no moons. Just them, tucked away in this little patch of shadowed solace where the nightmares can't reach him, where the flames don't still burn.

The only heat is the tiefling's arms around him, wrapping him in a warm embrace. The delicate press of his lips to Caleb's sweat sheened forehead. It feels like a gift, a promise; solace and grace and the first gentle touch he's known in so long. Devotion so divine it feels purely mortal.

"Consider this my blessing--and an invitation. May the Monweaver watch over you, Magician."

"What are you offering?" Caleb rasped. He can feel the rest of the world slipping away, can feel the taste of ash and soot clawing up the back of his throat.

"Nothing much. Just a bit of luck. And some dreams. Sleep tight, Mr. Caleb--you've had enough nightmares for one life."

When he awoke, the flames were gone.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

The Volstrucker and I

Chapter 4: We Kiss in Shadow

Bluud was running late. 

Caleb noticed the second the clock in his head told him it’s nearing midnight. Bluud was supposed to relieve him, but a look up either end of the hall told him that the minotaur was late. That was perfectly fine, Caleb told himself, he would stand here as long as it took. 

Jester was fast asleep by then, or at least she should have been. He had a hard time telling if her fake snoring had finally given way to real ones or not. She liked to make loud exaggerated snores, just to see if he would call her on it. He usually didn’t, unless she was in a bad mood and he was trying to cheer her up. 

Shifting his feet the slightest amount, Caleb got comfortable, his hands folded neatly behind his back. 

Then the screaming started. 

Before Caleb even knew what he was doing, he threw open the doors and burst into the princess’s bedchambers, fire already blooming in his hand. Yet he saw no assailants, no weapons drawn, no life threatened, instead he saw Jester still fast asleep. 

Her legs were tangled in the sheets, her hair wild and sticking up around her horns, and she was crying out in her sleep. 

Caleb froze where he stood, unsure of what to do. That was not in any of the protocols he had been given. Then it hit him all at once that he was alone in the princess’s bedroom, she was fast asleep wearing a nightgown, and he most certainly should not be there. 

His manners and sense of duty, urged him to turn around and return to his post. He moved to do just that, but then she started to cry out again. 

In that moment he remembered another woman, one with long blonde hair and a permanent frown on her face. He remembered how Astrid would cling to him and Wulf after a nightmare, how even the situation they were in was better than the one her mind would conjure up. After a nightmare was the only time Astrid would let them comfort her.

It was that thought that made him turn around, that made him summon his Dancing Lights as he crouched down beside Jester’s head. 

“Princess?” He said softly. He reached out as if to touch her, but thought better of it. “Jester?” When she still didn’t stir, he forced himself to reach out and shook her shoulder.

Jester jerked awake, quickly peddling away from him in her panic. Her breathing was harsh, eyes blown wide in fear. His heart ached for her, she should not be made to feel such fear, she was too kind of heart to be put through so much.

Caleb put his hands out in a calming gesture and tried to make himself appear smaller, “You were having a nightmare, your highness.” 

She blinked. “Caleb?” Jester swallowed thickly and pushed her hair out of her face.

“Ja, it’s just me. Bluud should be here any second,” he added just in case she was nervous about being alone with him. She was no longer tucked under the blankets, allowing him to see where the sleeves of her nightshirt clung to her muscles. 

“Are you alright?” He asked gently. Jester wordlessly shook her head and pulled her legs to her chest. “Do you want me to get someone? Your mother?” 

“No.” She moved towards him. “It’s safe in here?”

He nodded and sent his Dancing Lights around into the corners of the room. As light flooded the nooks and crannies, Jester visibly relaxed. She untangled her legs from the sheets and looked as though she was about to say something, but before she could a large frame appeared in the doorway.

“Jester?” Bluud’s deep voice asked. 

Caleb immediately stood at attention, pulling away from Jester. Bluud growled deeply when he saw Caleb in the room, standing so close to the princess. Caleb’s heart beat in his ears, waiting for the punishment to come, but before he could try to apologize, Jester stood and ran into the minotaur’s arms. 

Bluud hugged her immediately, the tiefling almost disappearing into his broad arms. Seeing his chance to make his exit, Caleb bowed deeply and left the room. Bluud’s low tones filled the room behind him.

The punishment would be severe, he knew, yet he could only think that it was worth it to help Jester.

As Caleb left, Bluud turned his attention back to the girl in his arms. He would deal with the Volstrucker later. “Did he hurt you?” Bluud asked softly. Tucked in his arms, the last dregs of the nightmare were finally leaving Jester.

She shook her head and looked up at him, “No, he-he was helping me. Don’t be mad at him.”

Bluud’s arms tightened around her protectively, but he didn’t respond. One of his large hands cupped the back of her head. With a gentle sigh, Bluud used his claws to untangle her hair. “Do you want to go to your mother?”

Jester shook her head. “I don’t want to worry her.” Jester worried far too much about her mother, though he supposed it was only natural. For most of her life, she only had him and Marion. “Sit with me for a while?”

He smiled, “Of course.” He guided her back over to the bed, letting her climb in before pulling the blankets up around her and perching on the edge of the bed. He’d been doing this since she was just a little girl, when her nightmares were filled with nothing more than boogeymen and dragons. He reached down and brushed her hair back, “You’re safe, Jester. I will always protect you.”

She smiled and leaned into his hand, “I know. But you don’t need to protect me from Caleb. He’s a good person.”

Bluud sighed. It was his job to be pessimistic and cautious so that Jester and Marion didn’t have to be. “I wish I had your faith in people.” 

“Trust me, Bluud. I know what I’m doing.”

“Marion, you’re putting Jester in danger for something that-”

“Something that could save hundreds, that could end the war!”

“We know he’s trying to kill our soldiers and still you let him wander free? Jester could be next.”

“Caleb is a boy, he-”

“He’s a soldier, Marion! The sooner you see him as a killer, the sooner we can get him and his plotting out of our country.”

“My country.” 

“Marion-”

“This was the deal I made with the Bright Queen. War will not touch us if we figure out how to break the programming. Jester is the key, you know that.”

“I think you’ve made it clear that I don’t know anything. War is already here, your majesty, it’s been here since the second Caleb came into this castle.”

“What’s wrong?” Jester’s voice cut through Bluud’s mind as she squeezed her hand.

He sighed, “Your mother and I had an argument about that very thing.” Caleb. “She believes in you so much that she…” He looked away. “I won’t burden you with it. But I will be staying closer to you and Caleb.”

“Okay.” She turned onto her side, curled towards him. Bluud smiled and leaned down to kiss her temple. “Stay until I fall asleep?”

He nodded, knowing it would only take a few more moments for her to drift off.

When Caleb was summoned before the queen the following day, all he could think about was the previous night, how he invaded the princess’s privacy and was caught. In his mind he was already preparing himself for the coming punishment, how he would be berated for this error. Marion didn't seem cruel, at least not in front of her daughter, but Caleb knew better than to trust first impressions. 

He met Marion in the throne room and knelt before her in the throne. “Your majesty.” 

“Stand, Caleb.” Her voice was even, practiced. He couldn’t read her as well as he wanted. Marion rose from the throne and walked down the stairs towards him. Her silk gown hugged her figure and flowed in waves from her curves. “Would you walk with me?” 

“Of course, your majesty,” he agreed and rose quickly. Caleb offered her his arm which she took with a small smile. The two of them begin to walk through the hallway, the stained glass windows shedding colorful light on the wood. 

“Bluud told me you were in Jester’s bedchambers last night,” Marion begins, her tone remaining amicable. “Can you tell me why?”

Caleb swallowed, the truth was always better. Whatever punishment he was to receive would only be worse if he lied. He remembered harsh hands, freezing towers, blood covering his arms.

In a robotic voice, he told her, “The princess was screaming, I went in assuming she was being attacked. She was having a nightmare and I woke her up and attempted to calm her down. That’s when Bluud entered. I could see how it might have looked untoward, but I promise you, your majesty, I had nothing but the best intentions towards your daughter.”

Marion hummed thoughtfully, “That was the same story my daughter told me this morning.” She stopped their walk and turned to face him. He forced himself to meet her eyes. “Caleb, my Jester does not often have nightmares; I hope that this isn’t going to be a repeated event. But…I appreciate you looking after her.” Then the queen’s posture changed, she straightened up and Caleb flinched, he knew what was coming. “Veth told me what she overheard.”

“Your majesty-”

“I don’t wish you harm, Caleb.” Her voice remained so gentle, he could hardly stand it. “I know you have been given orders and I know that those orders put the lives of my daughter and my soldiers at risk.” Her red eyes met his and he saw no malice. “But I have allowed you here, I have allowed you near my Jester, do you know why?”

He shook his head.

She touched his hand ever so gently, “Because I believe you are more than a Volstrucker.”

“That is a mistake,” Caleb told her harshly. If she was going to kill him, he wanted her to get over with it. “I am a Volstrucker first and only.”

The look on Marion’s face was full of empathy. “You are not.”

“Your majesty-”

She cut him off, “Just think about it. You were once a child with a mother and father. I know that little boy is in there somewhere.”

“He died long ago,” Caleb whispered.

Marion touched his chest. “As my daughter, things that are dead don’t always stay that way.” Then, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Marion gave him a warm smile and walked away. Caleb was left there alone, more off kilter and uncertain that he would have been if she had struck him.

Part of him wished she had.

On his way back to the barrack, Caleb turned the corner and immediately found himself shoved harshly against the wall. 

A forearm pressed to his throat, forcing him to lift his head. He immediately moved to try to cast, but Beauregard kneed him in the stomach, removing any air from his lungs. With her free hand, she grabbed his wrists so he couldn’t move them. 

“Try to cast anything and I’ll snap your neck.”

In the dim hallway, Beau’s face was shaded. The visage of death coming for him. When he recovered enough to meet her eyes, he found her glaring at her with pure malice. “If I hadn’t been told not to kill you, you would be dead right now.” He could almost imagine her teeth as fangs dripping with his blood. He would not be surprised if she tore his throat out with her teeth.

“What do you want?” Caleb gasped, trying to fight against her. She was stronger than him, he had no chance. 

“Why the fuck do you want to kill me?”

“I have to,” Caleb said with what little air he had. He struggled against her arm again, but he didn’t even move an inch.

“Why?” Beau demanded, pushing ever harder against him.

He shook his head, “I don’t have a choice.”

Her eyes turned into black slits with the fury of her glare, “There is always a choice. Tell me why.”

“The volstruckers,” he told her weakly. “You know too much about us.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, “Are you going to hurt Jester?”

“I-I don’t want to,” he told her. It was the truth, the very thought of harming her made him feel sick. 

Mercifully, Beau pulled away but stayed close enough to keep him trapped in the corner. “Jester is my best friend, if you even think about hurting her, I don’t care what the queen says, I will rip your throat out. Don’t fucking test me.” She shoved him against the wall again before stalking off.

He slid to the ground, trying desperately to catch his breath. His hands dug into his hair and pulled at the roots.

“Lebby?” He looked up and saw Veth there, crossbow out. He didn’t know how long she had been following him, probably long enough. 

He shook his head, “Nothing she said was out of order.” Caleb his head back against the wall. “I should let her kill me.”

“No.” Veth tucked away her crossbow and hurried over to him. She stood in front of him, forcing one of her hands into his. “Don’t say that, don’t ever say that.” 

He shrugged, “Why? It’s going to happen eventually.”

To his surprise, Veth pulled him into her arms, hugging him tight. Even more surprising, he let her.