#also is it tiefling or teifling???? i think it's the first one but I could be very wrong

[two-bats]

i have 100 hours in bg3 and finally decided to draw my tav :)

[image ID: a light blue background with reference images on the left, and a portrait on the right. the reference images are several screenshots of a Baldur's Gate 3 player character, which is a pink tiefling with long horns that spiral upward, black facial markings, pointed ears, and red shoulder-length hair that parts in the middle. the screenshots are all from the hips and up, with the character facing multiple different directions. to the right is a half-rendered bust of the player character, notably with a slightly larger nose, fluffier hair, and thicker horns. their expression is neutral. end ID.]

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #baldur's gate 3 #digital art #bats arts #hello yes if you know me you already can tell my tav is just me as a tiefling sbhjbs rip #also is it tiefling or teifling???? i think it's the first one but I could be very wrong #described #hope my image id is okay. please let me know if there's something I need to change!! i will gladly do it #ALSO i do legit have 100hrs in game but fucking. i am still in act 1 technically #ive done the underdark and part of moonrise towers and went back to do the mountain pass and halsin is in my party officially #but i haven't gotten the relic or fought kethric yet #ive taken down his kids tho #anywayyyy maybe expect a few more bg3 doodles out of me before I run out of creative steam again dhbsjdsbhj #i need a clever queue tag

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi, I saw you did a request for Tim Drake during your kinktober list, but like nothing after that.

I was wondering if you could do one where Tim has a crush on the reader, him (the reader) having a demon like mutation. (Basically a Teifling from DND)

The reader looks all intimidating and aloof, however he is very affectionate towards people how are close to him.

I think it would great if Tim tries flirt, but he's so awkward he fucks it up everytime.

I'm sorry if you don't like writing for Tim, you don't have to if that's the case. I just really love the caffeine addicted anxiety bird.

Tim Drake x “Tiefling” male reader

Headcanons

I wish I could say I knew more about Tieflings, but I’ve only played DND very few times, and only had one character who was a Tiefling, so I’m just gonna try my best, hehe.

I was also somewhat inspired by nightcrawler from x-men for this reader :)

I also love Tim, I just haven’t gotten any requests for him before, but he is very much on my list of characters I write fore ^^

You had originally not been a part of the justice league, not even close. You had worked alone most of your life, though to had partnered up his magic users in the past, most notably John Constantine, who after having run-ins with your parents became a common figure in your life.

You were what most called a meta, but in reality, you were actually the child of two very powerful hellish beings. You had been born a human but on your 6th birthday you had mutated into a figure that fit your parentage most.

In the beginning you didn’t know your origin and your birth parents had shunned you. Turns out your hell parents couldn’t carry a child of their own, so they had used magic to have you be born by a couple on earth.

Your earth parents had not been kind when you one day turned blue, grew horns, a tail and other non-human features. They had actually tried to get rid of you because they thought you were cursed.

That was your first meeting with Constantine, after your earth parents had sold you to some less than friendly people who wanted nothing but bad things for you and other meta kids they had stolen or bought.

Apparently multiple kids there had been magic or not even human but of otherworldly descent, so Constantine was the ones to find you.

Apparently, he had recognized some of your features, the curve of your horns, the shade of your blue, the yellow of your eyes and the curve of your tail. He had offered to bring you to your hell parents.

You didn’t understand at the time, but when he brought you to hell and to the two people who had been your less than human parents you couldn’t help but feel relief to some point. You weren’t a monster or a curse and had parents who loved you.

Your hell parents wanted you to be cut off from the human world, but you treasured it even though you had only lived in it for 6 years, so Constantine kept coming around to work as some kind of anchor between you and earth.

He taught you magic and called you Tiefling as a nickname. He even taught you spells that could help you change your appearance to be more human, though your eyes stayed yellow, your ears pointed, and you had sharper canines.

Constantine and your hell parents taught you many things you needed to survive, and you had become very interested in seals, runes and anything like it, becoming quite the expert at a young age.

You were able to create large and confusing seals and summoning circles, and read ancient texts even the older demons couldn’t understand. Your hell parents and Constantine had been quite proud when you one-upped a cocky elder demon in reading and deciphering runes.

Along with runes you had pretty much coined teleportation as one of your quirks. You’d always disappear in a cloud of black smoke, even though you could do it without the effects, it was just funnier this way.

It was because of your extreme skill with runes that you were called to help the Justice League. Apparently, their magisters Zatanna and Dr Fate had found a very extreme summoning circle, the world ending kind, but they couldn’t figure it out.

They had even roped Constantine into trying to decipher it, but they all feared that poking at it would end badly and summon whatever it was made to summon.

In the end Constantine admitted to knowing an expert, and though he hated working with the League he knew this kinda seal couldn’t be left alone, so he contacted you.

The League didn’t really know how to react when Constantine’s contact was someone as young as you, you couldn’t be much older than Red Robin, so anywhere between 18 to your early 20s, if they went off human ages.

Some of course wanted to ask you questions immediately, feeling on edge about a meta or if Constantine was to be believed, demon, in front of them.

Most seemed cautious, and nobody noticed how Tim was having a moment. The moment you stepped out of the portal his heart started doing flips, and if he hadn’t mastered a poker face, he knew he would have been bright red and stuttering already.

Most left you alone as you worked, but Tim couldn’t help but make his way over and try to start a conversation. Kon, Bart and Cassie would later tell him it had been a painful sight.

Tim had tried to casually lean up against the table nearby, but his arm had slipped so he ended up leaning up against the wall instead. Normally you would have been annoyed by being bothered when deciphering, but the flustered hero made your tail wriggle.

Tim stayed around as you worked, at some point becoming a bit more comfortable and the two of you fell into conversation. Though, Tim did still seem quite flustered as he tried to “shoot his shot” as Dick called it, and failed miserably each time.

You couldn’t help but find Red Robin quite charming in his own way though, it was pretty cute to watch him try to flirt even though he seemed to have absolutely no talent in doing so.

When you were finished deciphering and destroying the summoning circle you ended up giving red Robin your phone number, don’t question how it was possible for him to contact you in hell, you didn’t know yourself.

It had been so hard to keep yourself from snickering at how the bottom half of his face had gone beet red and he had started stuttering, clutching onto his phone that you had just put your name into.

After this you started hanging with Tim and his friends some more, also working closer to some of the younger heroes around your own age. You never became an official league member, not wanting to be mixed up in all the weird things they did.

Your hell parents also almost had a fit when they found out you were working with superheroes of the human world, not because they had anything against heroes but because it put you in danger.

All the way through this Tim had tried in different ways to flirt or ask you out, you almost pitied him because it never seemed to work out for him. He always got too flustered and would choke on his words and stutter. It was very cute, but you almost wanted him to be able to finish his request to ask you out.

The other friends of your group started placing bets on just how long it would take Tim to successfully ask you out, you even had some money in the pool.

You couldn’t say you didn’t want Tim to ask you out, as you had very quickly developed feelings for the hero, your tail even going as far as you wrap around the man as if it had a mind of its own.

You had been so embarrassed the first time it happened that you just teleported right back to hell, your face going a darker shade of blue as you blushed. It had ended up with you hiding away in your room, too embarrassed to look at anyone.

You almost threw your hands in the air and cheered as Tim finally seemed to have found a method that worked for him, at least in his own way.

Before, he had tried to go above and beyond to make a display or ask you out in romantic ways, like giving you flowers or something just as romantic, but he had always forgotten what he planned on saying or had started stuttering.

One day he just sat down beside you on the couch, and though he was bright red, simply asked if you would like to go on a date. Nothing complicated or extreme like you had a feeling many had told him to be, it just felt very Tim to just be upfront about it like this.

You had blushed but smiled, your tail coming up to wrap around his waist to pull him closer to you. You of course agreed, and you couldn’t keep you smile off your face for the rest of the week as your tail never seemed to stop wagging.

Tim had gone even redder when you pulled him close, but he had seemed almost over the moon when you agreed on the date, he had to use all his bat training to keep himself from jumping up and celebrating.

After months of failing to flirt and ask you out he had finally done it, now the problem was coming up with a date that wouldn’t leave him stuttering and stumbling like a fool, that was gonna be hard.

#male reader #dc #young justice #justice league #red robin #tim drake #dc imagine #dc headcanon #dc x male reader #dc x reader #young justice imagine #young justice headcanon #young justice x male reader #young justice x reader #justice league headcanon #justice league imagine #justice league x male reader #justice league x reader #red robin imagine #red robin headcanon #red robin x male reader #red robin x reader #tim drake imagine #tim drake headcanon #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x reader

[thydungeongal]

What's your take on One DnD?

I haven't been following the playtest actively. I read the first few playtest packages but it was around the time WotC trying to reel in the OGL happened, which for me was the final nail in the coffin as far as ongoing support for WotC D&D is concerned. I will probably still end up playing it if one of my friends is bringing the game, but I just don't want to personally financially support it which has also hampered my interest in following it at the moment.

Most of the rules changes are ones I could get behind, at least from the ones I've seen thus far, and it does seem not only like a better game but also more like the sort of game D&D 5e actually wants to be. The changes to Inspiration are one thing where they've managed to turn an almost vestigial system that everyone forgets to use into an actually workable system.

What struck me about the first few playtest packages was how thorough a revisal it is. To me it's interesting because even though official sources keep insisting it's not a new edition, as someone who lived through the 3e -> 3.5 switch (which, in retrospect, pretty much was an edition change), the changes between 5e -> One are much more sweeping.

Anyway now that I'm thinking about the first playtest packages I do remember thinking (and posting) about how brave it was of the devs to introduce a subtype of Chthonic Tieflings into the game where people already have trouble spelling most of the terms. I'm expecting lots of Cthonic Teifling Rouges to come. Anyway that was very smart and cool of me.

#thydungeongal answers

[traceofexistence]

here's some Karlach meta that is about Karlach and not her abusers.

What we know lore wise, is that Karlach is very big in size (210cm tall) that is like a tall basketball player in human terms, and teiflings are like humans in size (as they were humans themselves once)

so she's big for a tiefling.

Karlach lost her parents in a young age, the assumption is that she was a teen. (a very crucial age to have guidance and support)

she's not the smartest cookie in the jar, and there is a line she says that indicates she didn't finish school (whatever level of education there is in fearun). her actor Sam even suggests that she dropped out school the moment her father died(her mom died before her dad)

we know also that she's an immature person, we can see that based on her reactions and wording, and kiddo enthusiasm at times, and also in terms of romance.

what immaturity mean in her case:

prone to be manipulated

prone to affiliate with the wrong crowds

prone to use substances (soul coins) without thinking of the consequences

emotionally vulnerable

a kid without guidance is more likely to be taken advantage off

there is also something that Sam said that puts in perspective the point about her size, and I think it is an extremely valid point.

Sam has a friend who was a very big build when he was young, and while as kid he was a good kid, with well meaning parents overall. because of his body type he was clocked by gangs for recruitment. and his parents had to do extra work to protect him from something that had nothing to do with their parenting, or his character but his body type. because as Sam pointed out when you are 14 and look like 20 and even big for that age, gangs want muscles, and a 14 year old doesn't have the maturity to see the red flags and flee. Sam said that story specifically to put Karlach in perspective for us, they also of course told us that their friend is a whole grown up now with family of his own, and he managed to avoid the wrong crowds as his parents did the utmost to protect him. Karlach did not have that, because her parents were dead at the time she needed them most.

see for example the orphaned tiefling kids in act 1, they do petty crimes all around because there are no adults around who care to guide them.

Karlach probably started in the same way in her teens, because of her huge body she got into protection/intimidation (her friend Fytz asked her if she's still in the business of intimidation, so we know that was something she was doing)

and when she was old enough and deep enough to not have an alternative, G got her, a slaver, an abuser, and a master manipulator. Karlach was in need of a decent job, he gave her that. it was what she could do, it paid well, and it gave her a lot of freedom too, being the bodyguard of someone like him certainly opened doors for her way easier.

on top of that in terms of her romantic life, she never loved, and she was never loved, as she says herself whatever walked on two legs she would climb aboard, no strings attached. her first fantasy out of the hells is for her to fuck her way through baldur's gates, two at a time. the way she can not manage her own feelings when she meets us and falls in love for the first time. all those things are indications of her immaturity.

she also trusts very easily, whoever will help her. G was someone who helped her so she trusted him, protected him, did his bidding. she was fully aware he was one of those shady fucks who had his tentacles everywhere, she says so when we ask her. but in her naivety she thought he cared enough for her to keep her around.

instead he manipulated her quite easily to do the job until he didn't need her anymore, or more precisely she was more valuable sold to a devil and experimented on, to him, than being his bodyguard. he could find plenty of muscle if he wanted to. but someone who could go through mutilation and survive enough time to get his prototype?

she trusted him so much that if he was to tell her his plan, she would probably agree to do it, get an engine for a heart and all. but no he betrayed her he didn't even inform her what will happen to her, he just made a deal without her, he treated her like a thing, like a tool.

and lets not forget that when we meet Fytz, she tells us that he told everyone that Karlach just left, he LIED about what he did. blamed Karlach made everyone believe she just abandoned everyone without a goodbye.

he sold her to slavery, and then assassinated her character, so nobody would look for her.

she was the perfect victim, she didnt have anyone who would look for her, and she was completely in the dark of what he had planned to do.

Karlach was not a bad person, she was just loyal to a horrible disgusting abuser.

she tells Jaheira, that she wished she had met her before G, that way she would put her talents in good cause instead of doing what she had to do.

she never wanted that life, she never chose that life, she had ambitions, and she had heroes she looked up to.

I dont think the game through Karlach really puts in perspective the amount of torment Karlach suffered in hells.

they way she mourned her heart that her mama gave her, it is the only concrete enough indication of how torturous and sadistic the process of the engine installment was.

there is not reference that her heart is kept somewhere, and she can go and retrieve it. from the mourning what I personally get is that her heart was extracted and then mutilated, and thrown to the imps to eat. and Karlach was conscious during the entire process so she could feel all the pain. physical and mental

zariel made karlach her possession, all the tattoos and burns scars, the carving on her horn. she was marked, so everyone could know who her slaver was.

and then she made her an addict as well (soul coins)

Karlach managed to survive slavery, and escape, but the impact that had on her is unimaginable.

so yes she tries to live, she tries to leave the past behind her, Faerun is like a child's play in comparison to what she had to do to survive in the hells.

so she becomes loyal to the first people she meets. the first people who showed her compassion.

but she also is being upfront, she doesnt hide who she is, who she was, what she has done to survive. when we asked her about the asshole she tells us all about what her life was like.

when we ask her as tav what she thinks she would be doing in not for the tadpole, and she asks us back, and if we choose the adventurer answer, she's thrilled about us doing all kinds of shit, and wants to join us.

she's the type of "wherever life takes me" as long as it's not the hells, but even that, we can convinces her to go so a little while until we find a way to fix her.

final verdict is that

Karlach is best girl, with a past, and also a victim of abuse and slavery. and all the blame goes to the abusers and slavers and nobody else, especially not her.

#karlach

[jynxeddraca]

Tiefling head canons

Because I'm in a mood and thinking about tieflings makes me happy. Some of these I've thought up independently, some I've seen elsewhere online and can't recall where but I've just folded into my head canons.

Totally got this idea from another person's post but I fully embrace that some tieflings can purr. In those that can it ranges from a noise that's high in the throat or very deep in the chest. I like the idea some can do it at almost a subsonic frequency so there's not any noise but their whole chest/body still vibrates.

Tieflings have dark-vision - therefore they have that cat eye glow in low light/the dark. No I will not accept feedback at this time.

I am always a fan of them having other senses sharper than humans. Not like 'I can smell your blood through your skin from across the room and hear a cricket fart' kind of thing - but definitely pick up on things a human is nearly sure to miss.

Not a fan of tieflings going into a true heat/rut where they go totally 'must fuck now' but them getting a random heightened burst of pheromones now and then after they've been with a partner for a while - especially if there's been a lot of biting involved. Basically it's the tiefling equivalent of women who get really super frisky right around the time they ovulate.

A very common home remedy among tieflings is a mixture of broth, oil, and sulfur - and every family has it's own ratios. In that same vein a common hangover cure is broth, charcoal, and oil.

Diets are the epitome of 'opportunistic'. They prefer meat heavy diets, especially rare/raw red meats, while also enjoy the gristle, bone marrow, and blood. They can eat anything a human could, and quite a bit humans can't. This includes rocks, bones, some things that are mildly toxic/poisonous, and foods that have have gone off with minimal to no ill effects.

Because of previous point - food poisoning is extremely rare for them to get.

Tail body language is just as much apart of conversations as hand gestures and while much of it is similar to cats - meanings can get complicated.

I see horn grabbing/pulling a lot in posts but I don't feel a lot of tieflings as being super comfortable with it if the other person isn't also a tiefling.

Honestly, I see a lot of tieflings being wary about non-tieflings trying to get with them because it seems to me a lot of people in world would either demonize or fetishize their "infernal traits".

That being said, they're also not opposed to relationships outside of other tieflings and some tieflings will happily use people's curiosity/fetishization to their advantage and work at brothels.

If a tiefling has one or both parents who aren't tieflings, then they can take on traits from the non-tiefling parent (ex. one parent is an elf, tiefling kid has a lifespan more akin to a half-elf). They, and their kids, are also more likely to have a kid that does not look like tiefling if they have a baby with another non-teifling.

I fully think that a solid 1/3 of all "surprise" tiefling babies are not because a parent made an infernal pact, but because both parents somewhere in their lineage have a tiefling ancestor and they just don't know.

You've heard of tieflings being raised by humans? Well I think, because of the last two points, the reverse happens as well and you can get what appears to be a fully human/elf child birthed and raised by a tiefling.

Tieflings totally have a higher normal body temp. Probably around the 100F-105F range.

Regardless of how big or small their horns are, their skulls are still thicker for weight distribution. Many tieflings can, and will, headbutt someone in a fight. Even if a horn doesn't hit you - the blow is likely to break a bone in your face and they will not even be fazed.

Headaches and neck/shoulder tension is really, really common both because of the added weight of the horns when they're adults and when the horn itself is first growing in as a kid.

I imagine most tieflings have horns that are primarily made up of a keratin sheath around a much smaller horn bone (like how cow or goat horn are). Because of this they don't have lots of feeling in their horns and some tieflings might pierce their horns in places for decoration.

Some tieflings that have antlers also shed their antlers just like deer do. I will not be taking feedback at this time.

The pattern and shape of ridges on their skin is unique to every tiefling - but most of them tend to appear and follow bones closer to the surface (ribs, hips, knees, elbows, etc)

#tiefling #tieflings #DND #headcanon #BG3 #I do not claim any of these are consistent with 5e canon #I just play here

[angeloncewas]

HEY so i just finished episode 5!! they’re about to go into combat at the pit!! this is SO awesome i’m literally so engaged and excited about this story in a way that i haven’t been about a piece of media for a long time, it’s great. i think part of it is definitely that brennan is such an amazinggg dm and the players are so good at roleplay too, it all ends up being very engaging and compelling - and the randomness of the rolls keeps me on my toes because i can’t really figure out where the stories gonna go!!! it’s just so awesome :333

i think right now my favorites are riz (from a character standpoint he’s just sooo fascinating, i made a post about it), fig for her absolute hilarity in every moment, and gorgug in a like more lowkey way because he’s just so freaking sweet. i like fabian and kristin a lot too because i think they’re both gonna get REALLY interesting in a bit with the way their characters are. adaine is also dear to me with how honest she is - even with her nervousness and sadness she’s such a good friend and she’s so brave when it comes to standing up for them. i’m really excited to keep watching them :)

and yes the combat is just sooo fun and cool and the more roleplay heavy episodes are also GREAT and equally engaging and it’s just!! they made this so well!!! i’m so glad i get to enjoy it!!! deffo my favorite parts have been the high speed chase with johnny spells and his teifling gang and getting ice cream after, that was such a fun episode…

but yeah i LOVE this show and i love d&d now and i’ve been making my own character (aasimar warlock :3) and falling more in love with the game and everything and just!!!! it’s so nice to find something like this, where i didn’t expect to love it this much and i do :) i see why you like it and i’m rlly excited for sophomore year too bc you mentioned that one was really impactful for you!!

ps if you have any fic reccs… especially character/relationship studies….. :3<3

Sorry I took so long to respond !!! I read this and was like :O and then immediately fell into a weird hole. But I'm here now

I'm so so so glad you like it. I remember when I first discovered fantasy high I was watching it between every break like I really could not put it down in a way i'd rarely experienced

I need to go looking for your Riz post because i LOVE Riz so much he is so me vibes (also not at all, but really kind of) --- but really altogether they make such a well-rounded group to me and you really highlighted what makes each of them special. Jonny Spells is so funny and that chase is sooo good --- really opened my eyes to what D&D could be way back when.

Very interested in your character too ! You're always so creative in that way I never make ocs Fic recs (that you may have already seen but that I stand by dearly):

take my heart, pull it apart; Fig character study; "It's a great day. Until her horns grow in."

Strongtower Luxury Apartments, Units 304 & 306; Kristen living with Fig and Gilear (sulfuric is such a good writer)

arm yourself for adventure; very AU start; "The adventure began in a tavern, which, as far as Riz knew, was pretty standard."

six hours to breathe again; very different sci-fi AU but super fascinating; "This is all for Adaine, they're going to get her back, finally, once and for fucking all, and then Riz is going to put a bullet in Biz Glitterdew's greasy fucking forehead." (knightserrand also has a great back catalog)

interchange; role swap role swap role swap !!!; "a pirate cleric, a goblin bard, a Helioic fighter, an elven barbarian, a tiefling rogue, and a half-orc wizard."

I have more that are sophomore year related too :)

#angel answers #diasybe #fic rec

[love-and-monsters]

Emery the Incubus

Hope you’re all in the mood for a short, but sweet piece about two musicians. Also, my finals are coming up in the next two weeks, so I’m going to take a break from writing until it’s all over. I just need a little bit of extra time for school.

M Incubus X GN Reader, 2,793 words

You sat onstage. Your fingers trembled as they worked over the strings, your bow drawing out the notes in long, mournful chords. The song was not complicated, but it was your own, and that bit of nerves makes everything more difficult. When your fingers shake, it is hard to keep them on the right strings. The hand holding the bow was slightly numb and you hoped that you weren’t going to drop it onstage.

The song came to a crescendo, then down to a close. You took a deep breath, stood, and dipped your head in a bow.

Applause filtered up from the audience. You straightened back up, hoping that no one could see your knees shaking from a distance. You couldn’t make out anyone’s faces in the audience, couldn’t tell if they were politely disinterested or genuinely enthusiastic. With another deep breath, you straightened and walked offstage.

Your professor was waiting in the wings and he nodded at you as you moved backstage. “All right. Persimmon, you’re up. Head to the front of the stage. Can we get one of the stagehands to clear everything off?”

Slowly, you made your way all the way backstage, into the little room for performers, and sat down. Your knees refused to stop shaking.

There was only one other person in the backstage room. He did not help your nervousness. He was an incubus- you thought. You were pretty sure. Technically, he could be a tiefling. Both had large, curling horns, thin, often spine-tipped, tails, and larger-than-average canine teeth. Teiflings, though, often had red, blue, or purple skin, while the man in the room with you had deep tan skin. It didn’t mean he couldn’t be a tiefling, though- sometimes they had human-colored skin. What made you suspect that he was an incubus, though, was exactly how pretty he was.

There was something strong and sharp in his features, with an elegant profile and a perpetually thoughtful, half-lidded expression on his face. He was muscular and strong-looking, with long legs and his shiny, black hair was slightly curly and always tied off with a ribbon. It wasn’t just you that thought so. You had seen at last half the students in any class you had with him alternating between staring and desperately trying to look like they weren’t staring. An incubus couldn’t attract people who weren’t attracted to his gender, but anyone who was attracted to men, regardless of whether or not he was strictly their taste, would find themselves drawn to him.

Given exactly how much everyone seemed to fall over him seconds after meeting, you thought that incubus was a good guess for his species.

He fiddled with his bow, plucking a few strings on the violin he held under his chin. His musical skills were fine, if a little bit middling, but he also didn’t need great skill. He was only aiming for a minor in music, his major being taken up by biology.

“How did it go?” You jumped, slightly startled. He rarely spoke, even in class, and his voice tended to be rather quiet.

“It went fine,” you said and felt pleased that you hadn’t tripped over your own tongue. “Are you up next?”

He plucked a few more strings before retuning. “In two.” It was the single longest conversation you’d ever had with him, which wasn’t hard considering that the only competition was an exchange of apologies after you’d run into each other. He drew his bow across the strings, producing a low chord.

“You’re sharp.” The words came from your mouth before you even thought about them. It was practically a reflex. He looked at you. His eyes were a startling shade of purple, and the shock of realizing that prevented a hasty apology for your intrusion.

He stared at you for a moment, then looked back at his violin and twisted a peg. He drew his bow over the strings again, and looked at you in askance.

“Yeah, that’s better,” you said.

“How did you know that?” he asked.

“I have perfect pitch. And a cello and a violin aren’t that different.”

“Ah,” he said. He sank down into a chair and rested his violin on his lap. “I should have guessed.” He rested his hands over his violin, fiddling with his fingers. “I heard your performance.”

You nodded. “And?”

“It was good,” he said. “It was… beautiful.” He picked up his violin, examined it for a moment, placed it back in his lap. “You wrote it?”

“Two of the pieces are my own. The other three are just classical pieces I thought fit the theme.”

“They were all very good,” he said. You shrugged.

“I missed a note in my second piece.” You had also failed to crescendo the preferred amount in one of your own songs and the other had a bit of complicated playing at the end that you hadn’t been entirely been happy with, but hadn’t had the time to keep going over.

“Only one note?” He barked out an anxious laugh. “I’ll be lucky if I miss less than half of them.”

“I’ve heard you play before. You aren’t bad.” There were occasional class performances, and he’d managed to be perfectly adequate every time. He’d never managed anything overly tricky, but he’d also never bombed any pieces.

Persimmon left the stage. The incubus watched her as she passed and as the next performer took the stage. He played with his violin bow, tapping it lightly against his leg.

“I wish I was as good as you are,” he said. You glanced at him. He was staring at the ground, a tight smile on his face. “Then maybe I wouldn’t be so nervous to go onstage.”

“I still get stage fright. I thought I was going to drop my bow when I played tonight,” you told him. He looked faintly surprised.

“Really? But your playing is so beautiful…” He trailed off.

“It never feels good enough. And no matter how many times I practice, I could still miss a note or forget a section. And if I miss one note, I am much more likely to miss more. I am always nervous before I go onstage.”

His expression shifted. “You’d never know. You always look so calm.”

“Practice,” you said. “If it helps, you could probably get away with a charming enough smile. Looks are half the battle when you’re onstage.”

He laughed softly, though he still looked anxious. “Maybe. But I don’t think a nice smile is going to help the audience overlook it if I forget half the song.”

“Emery.” Your professor leaned through the doorway. “You’re on in two minutes.”

“Oh.” He stood up, tail twisting and flicking nervously around his legs. “I’ll... see you.”

He stepped through the doorway. After a moment of considering, you stood up and followed him.

There was a secluded spot in the wings where you could watch the stage. Already, a small group of people had gathered to look. You couldn’t quite see the stage from behind them, but you could hear everything. You closed your eyes and focused on the playing.

The first song was low and mournful, some kind of slow, sad song you didn’t recognize. It was technically well done, but you could almost hear the nervousness in his playing. The beat was just slightly too fast and you could tell his hands were shaking a little on the strings.

The next song was jauntier, more of a dancing tune. He seemed to be less nervous and the crowd took up a rousing clap along with the beat. One or two notes were slightly sour, but they were hard to pick up under the obvious joy of the crowd.

The third and final piece was back to the slower, more solemn theme of the original. It swelled and crested like a wave and made something stir in your chest. There were a few missed notes again, but the emotion of the piece got through. He’d obviously spent time practicing, and his heart was in the music. You decided he’d had no reason to be so nervous. It wasn’t the best playing, but it was certainly good.

Thunderous applause sounded as he exited the stage. You moved back into the back room and started putting your cello away.

Emery entered the room and promptly collapsed into a chair.

“There’s a flower in your hair,” you told him. He reached up distractedly and plucked it free.

“Someone threw a bouquet out of the audience,” he said, twirling the pink flower in his hair. “They’re cleaning the stage off.”

“It sounds like you have an admirer,” you said. He snorted.

“I have many admirers,” he said. Then he winced. “That sounds conceited. I don’t mean to be-”

“Because you’re an incubus,” you said, taking a chance and hoping you were getting his species right.

“Mm,” he said. “I have a myriad of people who would love to be around me because of what I am.” He sounded thoroughly bitter.

“There are worse things,” you said. Emery pulled a face, then sighed.

“I know. I must sound like a whiner.” He leaned back. “It’s gotten me quite far, you know. Or… it did?” He tilted his head, looking thoughtful. “I was an actor, briefly. And a model.”

“In anything I would know?” you asked. He snorted.

“Only if you watch a lot of commercials. Or read fashion magazines for children. I only did it until late high school, but I stopped when I decided to go to college.” He shrugged. “I’m glad I did it, though, if only because it lessened my need to take out student loans.”

“You didn’t like it?” you speculated.

“I was pretty neutral on it, actually. It wasn’t fun, but the money was good. There’s a big demand for incubi in modeling, even if I’m only three-quarters-”

“Really?” you said. He smiled toothily.

“Full incubi and succubi can turn it off,” he said. “Or, at the very least, target it. Shapeshift. I can’t.” He shrugged. “I just have an aura of… attraction. And, of course, the horns and the tail.”

“And the eyes,” you said. He looked at you, startled, then laughed.

“Those aren’t natural, actually. It was a spell they used on me in my modeling days. It went a little wrong- they set the duration for four years, rather than four hours.”

Your mouth opened. “How junior was the spellcaster?”

“It wasn’t her specialty. She was just there to supply makeup and contacts, but she asked me if I would prefer a more magical solution. I’m afraid I can have an allergic reaction to the colored ones, so I agreed. After about four hours, she realized her mistake, went over the spell again. She wasn’t competent enough to undo it, and I’ll admit I like it this way.” He slipped his violin into its case and buckled it closed. “Might even ask for a redo when it’s worn off.”

“I think it suits you,” you said. He nodded.

“I thought about changing my appearance recently,” he said. “But it doesn’t work.”

“You can’t change it?”

“Oh, I can. But my intention was to… dampen my aura? Stop the attraction, I suppose. It gets frustrating. People always look at me, always try to win my attention, I suppose. I can’t ever be… unnoticed.”

“Is that why you gave up acting?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Well, that and the fact that I wasn’t terribly good at it. Why do you think I never moved beyond commercials?” You laughed and he continued, bolstered. “I don’t particularly want to be famous. I considered music, but you had a point, earlier. Onstage, people do care about the music, but also about the looks. Doing this professionally would just be another way to get eyes on me. Or praise I don’t deserve.” He frowned at the ground. “My applause was just as loud as yours.”

“That’s a strange thing to be upset about,” you said.

“Because they were clapping for me, not my playing. If they had been, your applause should have drowned out mine several times over.”

“Thank you,” you said, “but I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“It’s true. Your playing is impeccable.”

“We’ve already been over the fact that it was not,” you said.

“I’ve heard you play several times before. Maybe there was a wrong note, but it was wonderfully soulful.” He laughed. “I am convinced that when I hear you play, I can hear your heart.”

There was silence in the room, except for the distant sounds of the concert still going on. He ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I’m usually not that poetic. Um. This is embarrassing.”

“Actually, I think it’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me about my playing,” you said. He looked relieved.

“I… am not that good at playing,” he said. “And I certainly can’t write anything.”

“Coming from you, that’s quite a compliment.” He smiled, looking quite pleased. There was a glimmer of something in his eyes, but it was gone when his lids flickered closed for a moment.

“If you aren’t aiming to be a musician, then what does interest you?” you asked.

“I want to work with animals,” he said. “They’re not affected, you see. I have to work to earn their favor.” He smiled. “It took me three months to earn Baphomet’s affection. Oh, that’s my cat. Grouchy old thing.”

“You have a cat?” you said. “Don’t you live in the dorms?”

There was a moment of shame, the a spark of mischief entered his eyes. He lifted a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell. Please?”

“I promise I won’t,” you said, “as long as you promise to let me see him.”

His brows rose. “Are you trying to get me to take you back to my room?”

It was your turn to dissolve into stammering. He waved his hand to dismiss your worries. “I’m teasing. I’m sure Baphomet would be pleased to meet you. After a fashion, anyway.” He looked at you a moment, seemed to be gathering his courage for something. “Would you mind- and you certainly don’t have to if you don’t want to- but I was wondering…”

His courage failed. His tail flicked rapidly and he seemed to be struggling to speak. “I can’t answer until you’ve actually asked something,” you reminded him. That got a tight smile and he tried to speak again.

“Your music. I was wondering if I could hear some more of it?” He worried his lip and you wondered how his sharp teeth didn’t break the skin. “I know it might be personal, but I… It was beautiful and I’d like to hear it again.”

“I think I can arrange that,” you said. “But not all my pieces are as polished as those, so you might not be as pleased by them.”

“I’m sure I’ll be pleased with whatever you want to play,” he said. He shifted his legs, tail stilling with obvious effort. “And would you be willing to help me learn how to play better?”

“There are better people to teach you,” you said. He sighed and gave you a look under his lashes.

“Maybe I would prefer to spend time with you,” he said. You opened your mouth.

“Are you-” The words were stuttering. “You’re asking me out?”

“I’m trying to,” he said. “I haven’t been clear enough, have I? I’m not used to being the one doing the asking, I’m afraid. It’s a bit of a novelty, actually.” He gave a sort of half-shrug. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve had an attraction for a while now, actually. From, uh. The first time I heard you play, actually.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “But I’m usually very cautious about asking people out. I know that some people thing incubi just use people for sex. And others… aren’t shy about doing it the other way around. So, I was waiting to make sure that you liked me back. For me, not for anything else. But you corrected me earlier. And you haven’t fallen over yourself with me either. So.” He coughed. “All this is a very long way of saying that I would like to go out with you. And I’m hoping you feel the same?”

He was just as handsome as before. But the only part of him you really noticed were his unnatural eyes. They were bright with affection.

#exophilia #incubus #incubus boyfriend #incubus lover #monster lover #monster romance

[thesadisticsiren]

Mighty Nein characters if they were brought via reincarnation:

my prefered options for taste and drama:

(Note, the shape may not last bc of caleb and Veth's hard earned Widogast's Transmogrification), so thats also interesting

Fjord - Human, or Halfelf. I think it'd be interesting for his character to see how... undifferent he'd feel as himself, despite being in the form that most likely the children that bullied him took. Plus I'd love to see him choose to go back to half-orc after. Fuck that insecurity boy!!!

Beau - Tiefling. A red one, like the one she was when first in Xhorhas. She could vibe with jester and depending on the kind if teifling could have some cool magic effects which she mayyyy be hesitant to give it up to go back to human. ALso I think she'd be really hot (shes already hot ofc but yaknow) and also thats mad aesthetic don't @ me

Caleb - I think a race thats not common in the empire would be fun for him... and also strange. But also Tabaxi because cat man becomes catman lol. Whatever he changed into tho would be good to help the assembly not find him. Has a minor version of the kick he gets out of polymorph- hes still got all his brains but hes not... quite? Himself. And thats sadly comforting. Would probably be in no rush to change back.

Veth - hesitant to choose any bc she woRKED to be a halfling she deserves to stay that way... but also her as a medium sized creature to see how that would work with everyone else in the party. EspECIALLY a halforc or a human. Yezas reaction would be thr best part no matter what. Would likely wish to turn back quickly.

Jester - Ahhh the blue darling... I like to think the chaoticness to her would give some more... wild options! Like oh my god.. Blue dragonborn? A scourge aasimar makes holding in her emotions like she does... complicated? I think jester would have fun running around causing chaos, but would eventually wanna turn back really bad.

Caduceus- Hes perfect I don't want him to change I love him... but maybe a triton so the ocean stops being horrible to him so much... also like a very chill dragonborn. Tho maybe teifling? Like a grey and pink teifling has vibes... he'd likely be pretty calm but wants to turn back vERY badly.

Yasha - my queen... oh my gOD what if she became a halfling or a gnome.... chibi yasha... wait dragonborn yasha... nothing is good enough for her.... tbh i don't think she'd care too much, at least not outwardly.

#critical role #the mighty nein #mighty nein #cr #misc

[your-reference-here]

Dairon tried. They really did. Through words, through actions, and through punches, they tried to pass on the lesson about the dangers of connections to Beauregard. And yet, the moment they caught up with her and the rest of the Mighty Nein, it was painfully obvious that the girl hadn’t absorbed any of it.

It was the stares that caught their attention first. During conversation with the entire group, they watched as blue eyes would subconsciously drift over to blue skin, only to snap back sharply with a look of inwardly berating focus. Then it was the comments, ranging from subtle encouragement to outright overt compliments. It was a wonder that the teifling girl did not pick up on their underlying meaning. But then again, she likely didn’t have Dairon’s keen eye.

Strange circumstances soon forced Dairon and the tiefling girl—Jester, as Beauregard pointed out emphatically—to pair up for a reconnaissance mission. Jester would distract while Dairon snuck in to get the documents they needed. Meanwhile, the rest of the group would stay nearby as backup should things get...out of hand, as the depressed, red-haired wizard explained. Dairon didn’t miss the way Beauregard pulled Jester aside, nor the way Jester placed a gentle hand on Beauregard’s arm as she undoubtedly spoke words of reassurance. The girl’s touch and voice had instantaneous effects on Beauregard. Dairon shook their head and focused on the mission. 

Hours passed.

“Do you like Beau?”

Dairon’s head tilted toward Jester at the sudden question, partially distracted from their scouting of the shop from the small alleyway they crouched in across the street. “Why do you ask?”

They saw Jester shrug from their peripheral vision. “I dunno. I just noticed you’ve just been giving her these weird looks since we caught up with you again, and I can’t figure out why, so I thought I’d ask?”

Ah. Perhaps they were wrong about Jester not having a keen eye.

“Is it unusual for a teacher to appraise their student after a period of separation?”

“I guess not. These looks seemed weird though, like you were worried about something.”

“Have you not seen me worried about things before?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same.”

A very keen eye.

Dairon sighed. “Beauregard is a gifted expositor, but despite her outwardly brash persona, she is very quick to attach herself to people. It is useful, but also dangerous.”

“What, caring about people?” Jester asked, a joking incredulity in her voice. Dairon took the briefest glance away from the shop back to Jester to shoot her a stony, serious look. Jester’s teasing face fell slightly.

“Yes.”

Dairon turned back to the shop. Silence fell once more. A few minutes later Jester spoke again, this time much quieter.

“She almost left us, you know.”

That caught Dairon by surprise, and they turned around again. Jester’s gaze was cast down to the ground, unreadable, but they still noticed her hands clutching the fabric of her skirt tightly. “We were helping break a curse on Veth, and she offered to leave us forever.” Violet eyes looked up, and Dairon saw a faint sheen in them. “Do you...do you think she should have done it?”

Dairon was silent for a moment as they carefully considered their answer.

“No.”

Jester was clearly surprised by the succinct response. “But you just said-”

“It is not hard to see that she cares deeply for all of you,” Dairon interrupted. “I fear what losing any one of you would do to her, but all of you at once would surely have broken her spirit. For that reason, I am glad she did not go through with it.”

Jester gave them a small smile. “Yeah, me too. She was pretty bad for a while after that.”

“Bad how?” Dairon asked.

“Like, she got really distant, but she’s gotten better. Mostly.” Jester’s brow furrowed. “But there’s still these weirdly awkward moments sometimes that I can’t figure out? Like she’ll say something and then just walk away and I have no idea why? Or she’ll make a comment and it’s not like it’s anything we haven’t said before to each other but she’ll act completely different about it now?”

...Maybe not so keen after all.

“Have you spoken with her about it?”

“I tried once back in Rexxentrum, which was actually before the hag now that I think about it, but I thought I figured it out then and it’s not gotten any better and I’m starting to worry it’s something I did?” Jester’s words were starting to not make sense as she was on the verge of rambling, which in a scouting mission was not ideal for focus, so Dairon cut her off before she could continue.

“Perhaps it is, but not in the way you think.”

Jester blinked. “What?”

Dairon shushed Jester as they noticed a patron finally walk into the shop. They both refocused, and just before they enacted their plan, Dairon made a mental note that Beauregard owed them one for planting the hint in Jester’s mind. Personal opinions aside, if Beauregard was going to have this connection, then they weren’t going to watch these two dance around each other. Might as well give things a little nudge.

#yes i believe Dairon would be the best disapproving but supportive wing person #fight me #beaujester #critical role

[depressed-sock]

Abandon all Hope

Oc stuff that I most likely won’t really do anything with. 

Rating: M

Words: over 2k

tag warning: descriptions of blood and violence, minor character death

.

The world can be strange in many ways. Twisting, turning, tying itself into knots that connect to other strings of existence. Like now. Where the fabric of this world has been torn asunder, opening to planes far beyond the understanding of this one.

The air crackles with a life of its own, winds howling against the glowing red abrasion that’s been torn into the air. Hooded figures spread their arms before it, chanting and calling forth into the unknown. Amongst them, a tall figure stands in the center. Preparing to lead the ritual to its completion.

“It’s sad you thought you could stop me,” his voice is guttural and hoarse as he addresses the bodies that lie scattered on the ground. Blood pooling into the dirt around them; even as most still breathe. It’s such a waste, he thinks, that they could not truly bare witness to this victory.

A shared victory that they themselves have had a part in. Though many of them will never know.

He turns and steps forward, hood falling back to reveal a haggard old man with eyes that speak of ancients far older than himself. He moves past the servants, Their arms raised in worship of something beyond them. Past the bodies that lie drained of blood, their sacrifice fueling the heart of the ritual. Keeping it from wavering.

Past the bodies of the adventures that had thought they could stop him. The paladin sticks out the most from all of them. An ax protruding from their head reflects the events that continue around their still form. And shows his final approach and destination to the one he needs.

Such a pity. Such a waste.

There’s living amongst those who lie dead, stirring and trying to rise back to their feet. A useless endeavor as their hands slip from under them, their strength continuing to give out. They had never stood a chance. Just as he had planned.

The one he wants lies still, body twisted at an odd angle that leaves their legs sideways and their chest and face staring towards the dimming stars. He almost fears they might be dead but then he sees the uneven rise and fall of their chest. The Tiefling stares blankly at the sky with distinct red eyes akin to that of a dragon’s. His long bloody black hair sticks to pale skin patched with red scales and a beard that hides any trace of his true age.

Such a strange creature to look so human and yet his blood is filled with that of beings far greater.

A pity that one of his horns is missing, the man thinks as he tilts the Teifling’s head with his foot examining the spot of the missing horn. An ugly red scar that smooths away any previous protrusion. Most likely ripped and burned from his head long ago.

“Abandon.” the man stops his foot, keeping it in place on the Teifling’s head. A frown on his lips. “Such a sad name you’ve chosen.” He tilts his head as the Tiefling bares his fangs in response, too weak to do anything else. “But not an inaccurate one at least.”

The man then smiles, stepping back as he signals his servants forward, “Grab him. He’s the last piece we needed that our friends here so nicely provided.”

The Tiefling doesn’t fight back as he is lifted up by his arms. The servant’s claws digging into his skin as he’s dragged forward and towards the portal. He doesn’t feel the pain anymore, doesn’t even really want to think anymore. Some part of him knows he should be panicking but he doesn’t have the strength to do it.

A single thought plays through his head though. Whispering that he should have just stayed in his self-imposed solitude. Where everything was nice and quiet. No war, no strange portals, no danger, no one there to let him down or hurt him again.

He can almost remember what his forest smelt like. Fresh earth mixed with honey and flowers.

There’s no trace of that here. Just the smell of a storm and that of the dead and rotting.

He should have died in his home. In peace. Not here. Not amongst people he never bothered to learn the names of. These fucking assholes had dragged him into this mess and now none of them could get him out of it.

None of them could get themselves out of it either.

He stumbles, falling forward out of his captor’s grasps. Their claws scraping against skin and scale as he lands on his knees. Right in front of the dwarven paladin that stares at him with lifeless eyes.

It shouldn't hurt like it does. He had tried so hard not to care for any of them and yet he can't help but remember just a few nights ago. When the warmth of the tavern had felt a little like home and the sound of his companion’s chatter was more comforting than grating.

He remembers the Paladin's laughter. Loud and boisterous as their eyes crinkled happily at something he had said. They had filled everything around them with a feeling of comradery he had never wanted to understand.

The rage slowly builds back into a fire as he sits helplessly. Wondering how he could have saved them. If he had cared would it have made a difference?

No. It wouldn't have.

And for some reason that makes his anger burn brighter. It clears his head, makes everything come back into focus. Until he swallows down the rage with an effort of learned patience.

His rage is the reason he’s in this state in the first place. Rage that had lead to sloppy fighting, sloppy attacks. It'll lead to defeat for someone like him who relies on his dexterity to protect him.

Patience. A woman's voice whispers in his head. The elvish accented common unmistakable after three years of hearing it.

The cleric is still alive then. Feigning death and waiting for a chance to bring back whoever she can. The last chance to set things right and stop Osmodious once and for all.

His captors drag him up again, harsh words spoken in a language he can’t understand. Pulling him closer to the center of the ritual and the portal. Osmodious stepping up from behind him, moving back to his position in the center. Wearing a smile that causes a sense of disgust to crawl against Abandon’s skin.

He thinks he’s won… not yet though. Not while I still breathe. He never wanted to be here but he may as well do his part. Maybe then he can finally go home. Finally have his peace back.

“Your blood is the final piece,” Osmodious pulls a knife from his cloak, turning it carefully in his hands, “A mix of fiend and draconic-”

“And human... maybe some elf.” Abandon coughs out a laugh, tasting the blood on his teeth. “Heh, never really bothered to ask.”

Osmodious glares at him for his interruption, hand tightening around the hilt of the dagger but Abandon is too tired to care about this man’s threats. It won’t matter in the end if all goes as planned.

And even if it doesn’t he’d never give this man the satisfaction of fear.

His tail twitches in anticipation, waiting without notice next to the ankles of the captor on his right. Just a bit longer. Hopefully at least.

“Could also have some dwarvish,” he tilts his head up looking towards the clouded night sky and the rain that’s now begun to fall. Harsh and cold; carrying with it a deathly chill. “Hard to really tell but it would explain the beard, right?” He smiles with his fangs bared in a challenge. Daring the man to make the first move.

Osmodious almost seems to growl inhumanely as he grips Abandon's chin, “Be silent or you’re tongue will be the first to go." His fingernails digging into Abandon’s skin causing him to wince in pain. 

He should shut up. Should stop talking. But he’s never been good at keeping his mouth shut and apparently 15 years of talking only to himself has made that particular problem much worse. “Technically, the horn already went first.”

The knife is fast but not as fast as the elvish woman who stands from afar. Armor dented and coated in a fresh sheen of blood, red hair flowing upwards as she speaks a prayer. Giving her wishes life with a burst of golden energy that burns away the blood. Leaving her armor a pristine white as the energy sweeps forth from her and towards her allies.

It hits him just in time. Taking mere seconds for his wounds to stitch together and bones to crack back into place. Renewed energy coursing through him to give him enough of a chance to dodge the knife. He pushes back, tail wrapping around his right captor’s ankle and pulling the hooded figure off-balance enough to send them to the ground behind him.

The other tries to stop him but he easily breaks the grip, turning to land a punch into their gut before bringing their head down onto his knee. Knocked out cold before they could even comprehend what was happening.

Osmodious’s growl turns to screams of rage, face twisting into an ugly snarl as he lashes forward. "Don't just stand there! Kill them!"

Abandon doesn't bother to look behind at his companions. He can take a guess at who is standing and who is not. No more than three at most. Three left to face off against a dozen while he stands in the middle of this chaos with the supposed big bad himself.

We're all really going to die here.

Osmodious swipes forward again in his rage. Slashing haphazardly to make any kind of connection with the Tiefling. Only for Abandon to easily dodge and dance around him.

It's a familiar rhythm from years of training. Years of fighting. He can already tell that Osmodious doesn’t know this particular dance very well. Slashing wildly with no skill or plan. A wizard using a knife against a person who has been trained to fight. It took years of practice, years of patience.

A monk should know best when and where to strike. Words imprinted in his head from a master long dead.

There. A chance opening made as Osmodious flings his arm back with the knife. Not expecting a solid fist to land a blow to his ribs with such force. Followed by a twist of his hand, the knife knocked harshly out of his grasp and another blow cracks into his nose. He retreats backwards, hands flying to his bloodied nose as Abandon resets into a defensive stance.

Osmodious stares at him with wide eyes. Trying to understand what exactly is happening. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. “You’re supposed to be a sorcerer.”

“Never really liked magic.” Abandon shrugs like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. His gift had wanted to control him since the beginning. Wanted to grow more powerful. So he did the biggest fuck you to the universe he could think of. He ignored it.

It had been hard at first. His magic acting out in unpredictable ways. Ultimately he had to compromise, using it for small things while focusing his time and energy on learning to fight. An effort that’s so far proved best to his advantage.

Osmodious breathes deeply through his teeth, "You can't stop what's already begun." His hands shake as a dark energy builds around them like vipers ready to strike.

"Ha! Yes, I can. I do it all the time." His laughter almost feels like it's echoing. Reverberating against the rain that threatens to swallow them all into its cold embrace. It brings with it a creeping sense of dread.

Something feels wrong. And he’s not yet sure what.

He takes the offensive, dodging the energy that blasts towards him with a jump and a kick aimed at the man’s face. Too slow to hit, but fast enough for his tail to strike out and lash against Osmodious’s torso. Sending the man farther back towards the tear that crackles with unused energy.

It bathes Osmodious in red light; his form becoming something more inhuman by the second.

The dread is working its way through his system. Strangling the breath from his throat, arms shaking despite being steady only seconds ago. The screams behind him becoming impossible to ignore.

This has to end.

And only he can end it.

He stares at Osmodious and the tear behind him. The red shifting haphazardly, showing no destination in its depths. It won’t lead to where either of them want it to go.

That’s fine with him.

There are no names to remember here anyway.

He runs forward, ignoring the pain that shoots through him as Osmodious magic claws against any form of touch.

It can’t stop the inevitable though.

As the two figures tumble back into the tear.

Vanishing in a burst of light that is soon washed away.

#my writng #dnd oc #like i know where i want to go with this #i just don't think i'll stick to it #because this was ultimately going to turn into crossover fanfic #and i have fluctuating energy lately #and yeah idfk

[pinkevilbobdoesthings]

I was talking about an idea I had for a widojest kid on the widojest server and went '...I'm writing this', so here it is in all of its no one asked for it glory. I call it “Picture it Soft”.

______

It was all Una's fault. When the Lavorre children got in trouble, it was usually Una's fault. Though, it wasn't unusual for it to be Harley's fault either. Oskar occasionally would be the guilty party. If it involved ovens or pastries, Alby would deserve the blame. Lina was almost never the instigator of trouble, but she was only four and still had time to follow her siblings’ example. There were times where Mama was the one who got the mischief started, but that was part of her holy duty. But this time it was all Una's fault.

Alby should've known better than to listen to her. But it was boring at the Cobalt Soul. Everyone was old and busy, and all there was to do was wait for Mama and Papa to finish their important meeting. Sure, there was the library, but all the books there were meant for adults written by adults who didn't really want what they wrote to make sense. And the monks in the library would glare at them if they so much as fidgeted. So Una suggested that they play a game(technically Una was almost an adult, but she was the fun kind like Mama).

And now Alby and his siblings were in trouble and had scattered running in all directions trying to avoid monks and librarians. Alby could only hope that the confusion was enough for him to get away. Speed was not a skill of his. Neither was hiding, but he managed to find a door that was partially ajar and slipped into the room.

It was a bedroom, plain and boring. A simple bed sat in the middle of the room with sheet that hung down to the floor. Not paying attention to the rest of the room, Alby dove down under the bed. Or at least he had attempted to. Alby was proving to be the bulkiest of his siblings, which he never minded since he was also proving to be the strongest, but it did not help with squeezing under the bed. Lina, Oskar, and even Harley, who was two years older than Alby, could've easily slipped under there, and if she held her breath right, Una probably could've managed it too. But Alby couldn't even manage to get half way under the bed.

Something grabbed his shirtsleeve and tugged on it. Alby slid out from under the bed to see a half-elf staring at him. They were scrawny and nearly as short as Oskar, but they looked closer to Alby's age. Big, honey brown eyes shone out from behind scraggly, long, light brown hair. Their skin was a pale brown that made Alby think that they needed to go outside more.

At the same time, Alby could only imagine what the half-elf thought looking at him. Teiflings were common in his family, only Papa wasn’t one, but apparently they weren’t common in most places. He wasn’t tall, but he was big for his age in other ways and was told that some found him to be intimidating. Intimidating was not the look Alby was going for, but that didn’t stop him from getting a mohawk. The half-elf’s eyes kept flicking back and forth between his short horns that curled forward and the crooked spot near the end of his pale blue tail(he couldn’t remember how he got it since he was just a baby at the time, but apparently it involved why the game ‘Hide the Baby’ was banned in the Lavorre household).

The half-elf tugged on his sleeve, dragged him over to a wardrobe, and opened the door to it. Nodding, Alby climbed letting them close it behind him.

After a moment, Alby could hear someone enter the room. "Almethia," an older male voice said, "I hope you have been resting well. There's been a disturbance in the halls, so you'll want to make sure your door is locked." The speaker paused. "You haven't seen any hooligan tieflings running about have you?" Silence. "That's for the best. For all that their parents have done for us, those children are hellions. We wouldn’t want them bringing any harm to you."

Alby couldn't really argue against them being hellions, he and his siblings most certainly were, but they weren't bullies. He sulked until the half-elf opened the wardrobe's door and tugged on his shirtsleeve. Stumbling out of the wardrobe, Alby opened his mouth to thank them, but no words came out. His mouth did that sometimes, so instead, he brought his fingers to his chin and then bent his hand back towards the half-elf thanking them. The half-elf only stared for a long moment and nodded.

A silence hung between the two of them. Not a bad one, but a comfortable one. Alby had a feeling that the half-elf was like him and wasn't much of a talker. His siblings and even his parents would fill up the quiet with talk, but it was nice sharing the silence with someone. It was interrupted by a small rumbling sound.

"Are you hungwy?" Alby winced as soon as he said it. His long, snake-like tongue would trip and stumble over words. Even little Lina spoke clearer than him. He sometimes wondered if that was why his mouth would lock up and stay silent. "I meant hun-gry," he said purposefully enunciating the word.

The half-elf stared at him wide-eyed and scared.

"I sssay something wwong? Are you fasting?" Alby asked.

The half-elf shook their head. Their stomach grumbled again and they hunched down.

Alby crouched down alongside them trying to make himself smaller. "Do you want to eat? I'm hungwy too." Not quite true, but Alby was always ready to get bread. "We could go down to the kitchens."

Finally, the half-elf nodded.

Alby grinned. "Gweat. I'm Alby. Your name'sss Almethia, right?"

The half-elf shook their head mussing up their hair even more.

"Oh. You do have a name, wight?" A nod. "Okay. Do you know how to spell it?" Another nod. Alby sighed with relief. That was going to make things much easier. "I'll go through the alphabet and you'll let me know what letter'sss next in your name." He slowly went through the alphabet fingerspelling as he went through each one. The half-elf watched his hands carefully and stopped him on t, h, e, r, and u. "Okay, so your name starts with Deru, no, Theru."

The half-elf shook their head spelling out the first three letters before pausing and continuing with the next two.

"Your name ssstarts with The?"

They nodded.

"Oh." This half-elf was stranger than Alby had first imagined, but he didn't have much room to talk since his name was short for Albatross. He continued through the alphabet twice more and by then the half elf had picked up fingerspelling well enough to spell out their name. "The Wu-Runechild?" It sounded more like a title than a name, but they nodded. "Um, can I call you Runie?"

The Runechild nodded.

"Okay, Runie, let's go get something to eat."

Alby learned several things quickly about the Runechild. First was that they were not very fast, which made sneaking to the kitchens tricky. Second was that they were very good at hiding, which mostly made up for the first fact. Third, and most importantly though, was that the Runechild was afraid of nearly everything. At the slightest sound of anything, the Runechild would press their back against the wall, their eyes wide with fear.

“Wunie?” Alby asked. “Do you want to hold my hand? So we don’t get sepawated?”

The Runechild stared at him for a moment before nodding and taking his hand. Alby had snuck into the kitchens before with his siblings while their parents had meetings at the Cobalt Soul, but it felt different with the Runechild. They clung to his hand like it was a life preserver.

Finally, the two teens got to the kitchens. Getting there was the easy part, but slipping in for a couple of pastries usually wasn’t too hard. Though, usually Alby didn’t accidentally trip the moment he got to the doors. So at that point it wasn't a surprise that they got caught.

A monk cornered Alby and The Runechild quickly. Alby took a step forward putting himself between the monk and the Runechild. He opened his mouth to say something, but all his words dried up. A tremble filled his throat instead. It wasn't like Alby was clever with his words anyways. Not like Oskar, Harley, or Una. But he wanted to do or say something to defend the Runechild. So he just stood there blocking the Runechild from the monk's view.

"What are you doing here?" the monk demanded crossly.

"I," a small voice said behind Alby, "I wanted a snack. Alby was helping me get one."

The monk gasped. "Almethia? You shouldn't have left your room. You shouldn't have left your room. You know you could ask for something if you needed it."

Alby frowned at the monk. She should've realized that there was no way that the timid Runechild would ask for something. But the monk didn’t notice that the Runechild didn’t like that name either, so Alby shouldn’t have been surprised.

"Right," the Runechild said softly. Their voice was filled with uncertainty confirming Alby's suspicion. They were shaking in Alby's hand.

"But while you're here, you may get a snack. What did you want?"

The Runechild nodded. "Bread."

The monk nodded and went back into the kitchen and came back with a basket filled with bread and other goodies. "There you go. Now back to your room." She escorted the two of them back to the Runechild’s room. Alby had a feeling that she would’ve prefered sending him away, but the Runechild held on tightly to his hand.

It was quiet back in the Runechild’s room. The two of them talked, but it was all done with finger spelling and Alby showing the Runechild some of the signs he knew. Occasionally one of them would say something out loud, but it didn’t break their silence.

The door opened and the monk from earlier was there. “I believe that is yours.” She pointed at Alby with disdain.

“Ja, that’s one of ours,” Papa said. Mama stood behind him at the door.

Alby got up and the Runechild stood up behind him clutching his sleeve. “Hi,” the Runechild said softly.

A surprised expression crossed both Mama and Papa’s faces, but Mama recovered faster. “Oh hello. It’s nice to see you again. Did you have fun with Alby?”

“Mmhmm,” the Runechild said stepping out from behind Alby, but they still stuck close to him.

“We got bwead,” Alby said. He didn’t bother correcting himself in front of his parents. They never minded how his tongue got confused.

Papa smiled. “Good for you. Is it okay if we take Alby home?” he asked the Runechild.

The Runechild nodded and then brought their fingers to their chin and lowered them the same way Alby did when he thanked them.

“You’re welcome,” Mama said.

“Bye, Wunie,” Alby said. “Is it okay if I can back someday?”

The Runechild nodded enthusiastically.

Alby smiled.

Mama exchanged looks with Papa who just shook his head. “Well, we should be going, but we’ll be sure to bring Alby back soon,” Papa said.

The Runechild stared at Alby for a moment before squeezing his hand and darting back. “Bye,” they whispered.

“Bye!” Alby said again waving before joining his parents. The Runechild stared at him for a long time before waving back. It was going to be a strange friendship; Alby could already tell that, but he didn't mind.

#widojest kids #pinkevilbob writes #critical role fan fiction #...i just love this kid and i write for myself half the time

[msmoonicorn]

Simon didn't say...

omg, you guys... OK. So. I've started playing D&D regularly, right? Probably haven't updated you on that...because..I'm the worst.

Anyway!

So, I've been playing with decent regularity since February. Every Tuesday, I'm at a local Magic Arena that also hosts tabletop gaming nights. They ask you which game you want to play and tell you who's meeting at what times/days for that game. So if you want D&D 5e, this is when they play. If you want Pathfinder, this is when they play, etc, etc. It's a $5 charge every time you show up to game, and $1 goes to the DM and the rest goes into a party fund. That way if we want to do something special with party funds, we can!

My DM's an awesome guy, and we were playing his homebrew, but then... Saltmarsh came out. And we were all really into the idea of doing Saltmarsh. SO. We used party funds to buy Saltmarsh, and at a point when we were kind of lulling in our regular campaign, the DM was like, "Hey, let's do Saltmarsh". We all made characters for Saltmarsh, and it's been a ride.

Tonight, I'm writing, because zomg the stress.

So, here's the roster, ok?

Zach - 42. A Warforged monk with no memory of his past before he arrived with us at Saltmarsh. We call him Captain Salty Seafist, because he spent a lot of his free time working the docks and has a bit of a sea-dog accent(?) now. He was the captain of our first ship, but we now have two ships so... I guess he's the admiral.

Addy - Fey. A fey. She's.... she's just a fey. They homebrewed her a race to play and she has a bunch of abilities, but nothing for combat...except she can summon creatures that help her by fighting. Other than that, she's all healing, utilities, and reaction.

BP - Frovax. Dragonborn warlock, hexblade. I don't know this guy's name.. Still. He's been playing with us for a few weeks. But I still can't remember his name. His wife used to play with us...

Wifu - Kvisa. Barbarian woman. Bloodythirsty ditz. Really intent on killing Lizardfolk because they whiped out her tribe and she's the last of them. She was playing with us regularly, but then classes started up, and now her Barbarian girl is just...gone. Whatever. She was going to be a problem because she wanted to kill all the Lizardfolk. It's probably better this way.

Bear - Fresca Goosberry, the Inquisitor of Kelemvor...really he's a deluded warlock that thinks he's a cleric. He has a cult now, because he's been proselytizing, and the converted become his cultists. Three of those cultists actually survived our hydra fight, though, and they have class stats now :)

New Guy - a tiefling ranger... he's so new, we literally met him today. He has no name for his character, but his big-play seems to be that he wants to cover himself in some form of alcohol and light himself on fire since he's fire resistant... I've tried to explain that resistance doesn't equal immunity, but whatever. Rule of cool I guess.

Me - Simon. Half Drow bard, college of whispers. Bit of a man-whore, but he's into that free love thing. Usually sends letters with extra gold back to his dads. Yes. Dads. More on that later (maybe). I've described him as having a leather vest over a poofy white shirt and really tight pants... rocking that David Bowie vibe from the Labyrinth (if you know what I mean [you know what I mean]). He got a long oil-skin green coat with lots of pockets from one of the adventurers. One of my favorite lines thus far...

  So we meet this guy right? He says if he's staying with us he'd like a weapon to defend himself. 42, the warforged, detaches his pinkie and gives it to him since every part of his body is a weapon. The guys looks at the pinkie and asks what he's supposed to do with that, and Simon says, "Well... I've done a whole lot more with a whole lot less ;)"

So, I'm Simon, right? He hasn't necessarily fit in well with the group, but he hasn't rocked the boat (lol).....I mean, he's been neutral enough to go along for the ride. But joy of joys...tonight, we transitioned from Murder Hobos(TM) to actual negotiators. Simon really likes having friends on all sides, so that was definitely more his speed. Don't get me wrong, he enjoyed straddling a ballista and bullseyeing a Hyrdra with 40+ damage, but this is the sort of group that usually wants to attack everything before finding out what's going on. Anyway. Tonight, we talked to the Lizardfolk. Right away, our swamp druid, Bog, tries to just fight them outright. The new guy, a teifling ranger who hasn't even decided on his name yet, also was in to fight. But Frovax our Dragonborn Warlock stepped up and talked everyone down with a mixture of common and draconic and his high-ass charisma. While we were being escorted by the soldiers to a holding area, hatchlings came up and clung to Simon, and he gave them piggyback rides and played with them. It was great. Finally, the Queen shows up(we later learned that she's Queen Othokent), and we convince her that we'er here from Saltmarsh, because they're worried that the Lizardfolk building up weapons means they're about to attack. Simon mentioned that he heard that they're having problems with the Sahuagin. She got suspicious, but we managed to convince her that we boarded a ship that was full of smugglers and they mentioned the sahuagin. Bog even added to it by saying he killed the men on the ship for what they did to the Lizardfolk, pulling out an arm and returning it to the tribe. As a druid of the swamp, his main concern is with the swamp. Something he said in Druidic. This struck a chord with..I think he was like a wiseman or shaman or something, but he functions like a druid enough to understand it... I think his name was Sauriv. So, we were allowed to stay with the Lizardfolk in their lair for the night to prove ourselves. So, Fresca (a warlock who thinks he's a cleric) is trying to proselytize...but he doesn't speak the language, so no one understands him even if he is captivating with his high charisma. The Ranger and Frovax brought some of the soldiers to our ship to supply them with weapons. Bog bunkered down with Sauriv (Wiseman?), and taught some of their people the ways of a swamp druid. And Simon found the ladies that were taking care of the hatchlings and made himself useful as a baby sitter. He has this pipe that he got; it's called a pipe of remembrance. When he uses it, he can make smoke images of his greatest deeds, right? So between his story-telling, performing, and the pipe (showing off the hydra fight), he had the kids (about 18 of them) captivated. The following day, the Queen asked us if we would consider doing something for the tribe. She said a crocodile named Thousand Teeth had been behaving aggressively lately. He's killed many lizardfolk that tried to patrol near his home. If we could find a way to deal with him, she would be grateful. So. We set out. We kill two wandering ogres on our way. I think they were lost, but it's probably a random encounter or whatever. Anyway, we get to Thousand Teeth's lair, and we're set up by two giant constrictor snakes. Simon and Frovax were grappled by the snakes. Simon... wriggled free, losing his pants in the process (still not sure how that happened, but whatevs). The crocodile attacks, first Ranger and then Simon. Fresca gets some distance between them and him, because he works best at range. Then Simon gets attacked again by one of the snakes and falls unconscious....and then is dragged into the water by the snake. Which attacks him, trying to eat him...and he fails 2 death saves.

ಠ_ಠ

Luckily I rolled a 19 for his initial death save, and it kept him from dying outright. The guys finally killed the snake, and Bog cast Lesser Restoration on the mad crocodile, who calmed down. Of course, he also healed Simon, and he had a minimum of 11 HP. He also didn't get poisoned from being in the swamp water because he passed his con save. Bog spoke with Thousand Teeth, determined that he had rabies (convenient), and made peace between him and the lizardfolk.

So, that's all handled, but man! The stress was real. I was about to be very very sad. I mean, maybe these guys are like, "Meh, just make new characters" or whatever, but I don't play characters that I don't like. And I like my blue boy.

But yeah. TLDR: that's the story of how we become ambassadors to the Lizardfolk and rescued an ancient crocodile.

#Lost Post #MsMoon's DnD #DnD #Gaming #Simon Cheramie #Half Drow #Bard #College of Whispers #Ghosts of Saltmarsh #42 #Kvisa #Frovax #Bog #Fey

[unicyclehippo]

could you please explain to me who is who in critical role? i want to start the journey into that but i want a heads up first... if you don't mind obviously :)

i don’t mind at all, i love talking abt it & i hope u have so much fun !! (warning: ignore anyone in fandom who hates any of the girl characters they cannot be trusted ). pls let me know if this isn’t what u meant by this question

campaign one & two: matt mercer!!!!! he’s the man at the point of the table, the man of many faces (& voices), the puller of threads, the weaver of stories, the man with lovely hair, the dungeon master himself. he puts together the story arcs, plays the npcs, does worldbuilding & directs the game during the sessions. he’s very cool (& married to marisha ray!!! & often says rly cute shit like “that’s my wife!” or “i love that woman!”)

campaign one: (link to episode one: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=i-p9lWIhcLQ)

laura bailey : appearing as the wonderful, the brilliant, the sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued VEX (vex’ahlia) a half-elf ranger, whose constant companion is a massive bear called trinket, im not 100% certain of the time line but she spent her childhood with her human mum & then her elf dad took them to the elven city of syngorn (spelling? not sure) & they learned a bunch of stuff but eventually left. vex disappeared into the forests to improve her skills at tracking & archery & to find/make a place for herself. also, she likes gold.

liam o’brien : appearing as the twin brother of vex, liam o’brien voices VAX (vax’ildan) a thief & rogue who would do anything to keep his sister safe (a trait that is returned by her), he’s a sneaky dramatic bi boy & a wee bit depressed. when vex went into the woods, vax went to the cities. he became a shadow of a man (see what i did there? im very funny) but for real he became a thief & learned how to sneak & hide & steal.

marisha ray : the voice of the sweet, talented, magical, painfully awkward KEYLETH, she’s a half elf from the ashari tribe of druids (air tribe). the daughter of the headmaster of the tribe, she is on a journey to each of the tribes to learn elemental magic & to form a new connection between the tribes. she has a good heart & a wicked sense of humour that the whole group brings out of her as well as the most hilarious innocent streak the group just. destroys. she also is a fucking badass & is training to be the headmaster one day so she definitely feels responsibility for the things they do & the choices they make

sam rigel : how does one describe SCANLAN shorthalt? are there words enough? scanlan is a gnome of considerable experience & charisma, who appears to have spent his life singing & sleeping around. i am on episode 60-smth & that’s just abt all i know about him. he’s a mystery, he’s a wonder, he’s a delight. he’s a brilliant singer & frequently makes me laugh so hard i cry. also, he’s in love with pike so,,,,,mood.

taliesin jaffe : percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo the third of whitestone, but his friends call him PERCY. at the start of the campaign i thought he was a real prat but he grew on me rly quickly & i kind of love him a lot. he’s a gunslinger, a genius inventor who created the very first gun(?) in this world & a wicked sense of humour

travis willingham : GROG. he can count to four, i think. barbarian who got beat up & abandoned by his herd when he refused to kill a gnome, he was healed by pike & became her brother & he’s BRILLIANT. he’s strong as FUCK & i love him to pieces

ashley johnson : last but not least in any aspect & certainly not my love for her, ashley plays the incredible gnome cleric PIKE. grog’s sister, cleric to the goddess of (????) saranwrap, who governs like forgiveness & healing or smth fuckin dope like that, she’s a BADASS & she CLANKS in her ARMOUR & i LOVE HER. she’s the heart & soul of the group everyone adores her & bc her actress (ashley) is away for filming for a bunch of time, u can see how much they all adore her when she joins them, they brighten up so much & they love her i love ONE (1) BIG GROUP OF FRIENDS

campaign two: (link to episode one: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=byva0hOj8CU )

laura bailey : JESTER LAVORRE, a blue tiefling who is super strong & mischievous & flirty & funny & a cleric for a mysterious entity called only “the traveller”. beau & fjords travelling companion when the campaign starts

marisha ray : BEAUREGARD, a monk. originally from a small town called kamordah, she was in zardash at the cobalt sol, the centre for the monks of the cobalt sol, where she was being taught to fight & discipline. but since she ran away, she only learned to fight & she’s great. also, hopefully very gay the way marisha plays it . jester & fjords travelling companion when the campaign starts

liam o’brien : scruffy dirty fire wizard CALEB WIDOWGHAST who has two holsters with books which is just the coolest fucking aesthetic & a magic cat called Frumpkin. tortured soul, dark past, German accent. notts travelling companion when the campaign starts

sam rigel : a fucking GOBLIN. a goblin girl, NOTT, THE BRAVE who is a rogue, steals stuff, has a never ending flask. she’s Caleb’s travelling companion when the campaign begins. minus 3 charisma, which is Hilarious after being scanlan for so many years

taliesin jaffe : a rather colourful character, he plays MOLLYMAUK, a lavender teifling decorated in jewels & dazzling tattoos. he wears a colourful coat & has two scimitars as well as a deck of cards he uses to tell fortunes. at the start of the campaign he is travelling with a circus & with yasha . queer???? Hopefully!!!!

travis willingham : FJORD, a seaman. he’s a half orc warlock & used to be a sailor. a man of many voices, he’s a mysterious & very handsome man & has a wicked falchion. at the start of the campaign he is jester & beaus travelling companion

ashley johnson : YASHA. strong hghhjnngbbghgnnh . but more seriously, she’s this fuckin jacked aasmir barbarian with a great sword & she still has to disappear to film sometimes so she has a fuckin dope backstory i can’t wait to find out more abt it. also, hopefully queer in some capacity

#critical role

[talesofdungeonsanddragons]

The Lion’s Den

"Why are you coming inside?" A guard immediately demanded as they stepped into the clean marble foyer. The first thing that Phoenix took note of was the few wooden crates that were scattered around the hall. Other than the crates the hall was empty, which she regarded as odd. She must have been staring at them because she felt Damian subtly drive his elbow into her side.

"Two of our men went to help some whore with her things and never came back." Damian said in a gruff voice that was far from his usual dulcet tone. The guard, a grey-skinned tiefling with some of the sharpest cheekbones she had ever seen, gave no indication if Damian gave himself away by speaking. The three of them stood in an uneasy silence for a few seconds before the guard gave a roll of his eyes, surprising both Phoenix and Damian.

"Those idiots chase after anything with breasts." He muttered in exasperation as though they were discussing juvenile boys instead of trained assassins. If possible, Phoenix tried to sink further into the cloak that obscured her features as Damian gave a forced chuckle. Humanizing the guards that they just killed created an awkward atmosphere that only the two of them could feel, but the teifling seemed to be oblivious to their discomfort. "I'll send some backup to go help them."

"We're going to go rest in the barracks if you don't need help…" Damian trailed off, seemingly unsure how to finish the sentence. This made the teifling pause for a second, peering at the pair of them with suspicion in his eyes.

"Protocall is that you accompany me to investigate the disturbance." He put a hand on his hips, unsettlingly close to his sword, and gave them a once-over. Phoenix's heart hammered in her chest as she held back the urge to simply attack the man to stop this painful line of questioning, but she simply lowered her head and waited for Damian to speak. Damian paused as his mind reeled for a reply, but the teifling seemed to brush off the mistake. "It is late my, friends. Go get some rest."

The two adventurers felt the tension leave their shoulders as he spoke. As long as they got deep enough inside before anyone raised an alarm, the others should have enough time to climb the towers and make sure that they wouldn't be shot down by archers during their infiltration. Confident once more, Damian smirked and led the way as they breezed past the teifling. Phoenix almost mimicked his self-assured stride, but found herself stumbling as she felt the cloak around her shoulders tighten before tearing away from her form.

"Fu-" Her curse was cut off as she barely dodged a slim sword that was aimed for her throat, her knees bashing the marble floor as she dropped to the ground and rolled to the side. Damian lunged forward and slashed the teifling's face with one of his arrows as Phoenix popped up behind the man and wrapped one of her whips around his neck. The teifling swiftly kicked Damian away while simultaneously driving an elbow into Phoenix's side. She let out a grunt, but didn't let loose the grip she had on the whips.

"I knew I sensed a bitch." The teifling managed to choke out, once again slamming an elbow into her side. This time her grip slipped, allowing him to shove her off and dodge the attack by Damian. The teifling grinned at her, standing as though she had barely scratched him. "There's a reason that we don't let women into our guild."

"Woah, I thought that you guys were an assassins guild not a magic guild!" Damian exclaimed, straightening up with a faux surprised expression. "But look at you! Conjuring misogyny out of thin air!"

For the first time, Phoenix felt herself actually laughing at one of Damian's jokes. Hearing her reaction, Damian shot her a grin which she reluctantly returned with a shake of her head.

"It isn't that difficult of a spell, Damian." She replied, a chuckle lingering in the back of her throat. "I'm sure an idiot like him could learn it."

The two of them both dissolved into laughter, frustrating the tiefling as they completely ignored his threatening step forward. Phoenix straightened up, one hand holding her gut as it hurt from both laughing and the two brutal blows that it took a few minutes ago, and shook her head once more at Damian. It had been a while since she had laughed that hard, and it almost seemed fitting that it had happened in the most inappropriate of times.

"Alright, the others should have taken care of the towers by now." She tried to force her smile from her face, but found it difficult as she saw the look of pure bewilderment that the teifling had. "So are you going to surrender or not?"

"Go to hell." He spat before darting forward and slashing downward. Phoenix sidestepped and allowed Damian to brush past her and drive his arrow into the man's throat. Gargling filled the air as he began to choke, one hand clutching the area around the wound while the other grasped at the air in front of him. Phoenix's smile finally slipped away as she looked away from the grotesque scene, not looking back until she heard a thump and then nothing more.

"Ah, that was fun!" Damian was far too cheerful for just impaling someone, but for the first time in a while, Phoenix didn't find that she minded. She walked over to the door that lead out of the foyer and peeked into the hallway, blinking in surprise when she didn't see more assassins coming. All she saw was a few more crates scattered throughout the stone hallway.

"It looks empty?" Her tone was unsure, as there were a number of enchantments that could make it look like an empty hallway. She stepped forward and quickly held out a hand, her fingers encased in a soft violet glow as she tried to detect the presence of magic. When nothing came up, she stepped further in. "I think that it's safe."

"Good, we need to meet the others in the courtyard." Damian said from the foyer, joining her after a few seconds as he tried to rub the blood on his hands off on his cloak. He shot her a smirk and joined her at the large oak doors, leading into the courtyard that ringed the main building of the stronghold. The cool midnight air blew the stray curls that had fallen from her braids, making her wrinkle her nose. About six men who were speaking in front of the main stronghold whipped around as the two of them stepped onto the cobblestone path.

There was a moment of silence before Damian nervously laughed.

"This isn't our inn!" He threw a tense arm around Phoenix, which she immediately pushed off of her shoulders. "We must have taken a wrong turn! Excuse us gentlemen but-"

He didn't get to finish whatever witty reply he had because an axe flew at his head in the next moment. Phoenix acted fast and shoved him to the side, watching as the axe barely brushed against her arm in the process. It was only the smallest of scratches, but it was enough to make her glare at whoever threw it.

She snapped her whips out, finding something satisfying about the resounding crack they made as they hit empty air. Before she could rush forward, she heard a whistling in the air and watched as a javelin drilled the shoulder of the man who had thrown the axe.

Phoenix let out a growl of frustration at the fact that Bamf wouldn't let her just have one badass moment and instead rushed at the next closest man. After ducking under the sword that he swung at her, she drew back her arm and delivered a strong blow to his throat. Choking, he stepped backwards with one hand clutching his throat. Taking this opportunity, she hooked her foot behind his and knocked him backwards. As he fell, her arm darted forward. Her whip snaked around his neck, causing it to snap to an unsettling angle as he fell to the ground.

At her side, Damian ran to the man with a javelin in his shoulder and shoved it further in while also driving and arrow into his uninjured shoulder. A tortured scream rang out through the courtyard, silence in the next moment.

Apparently unable to contain himself any longer, Dovahkiin descended from one of the ladders on the outer wall and dove into the group of assassins with a bellowing war cry. Phoenix made a face, but had to admit it sounded better than the folk songs that he had been singing on the way there. The fight dissolved into a blur of flashing metal accompanied by the singing of blades, ending as Thanatos summoned a bolt of lightning to strike down the remaining enemies.

"We should...have started with that." Damian panted, leaning over to catch his breath. Dovahkiin let out a bassy chuckle, slapping him on the back roughly.

"You need to get into better shape, my friend! You'll never keep up with my numbers in your current state!" Dovahkiin's face split into a wide smile, delighted in tonight's events. Phoenix rolled her eyes, getting used to her acquaintances constant lust for battle.

"Why weren't there more men? This is a stronghold." Bamf, as usual, completely ignored the banter.

"Judging by the crates, I'd say that they were moving." Phoenix replied, walking over to one of the wooden boxes and pushing the top open. Inside was rows of vials, carefully nestled in tufts of hay. If she were to guess, she'd say that they were poisons of some kind.

"I wouldn't touch thos', lass."

Phoenix whipped around, holding her weapons aloft in either hand as a gruff, yet feminine voice, came from the doorway behind them. Out of the shadows stepped a short figure, a mess of burgundy curls falling around a round face. It was a dwarvish woman with a knobby nose, holding a battle axe in her hands in a non-threatening manner.

"Who are you?" Dovahkiin demanded, drawing his large sword in preparation. Phoenix shot him a look, as it was clear she wasn't about to attack. The dwarf woman had come alone and had a relaxed stance, making it clear that she was not currently a threat. This did little to assure Phoenix to a point of trusting this woman, but she felt a bit more at ease.

"Kiligana." She gave a slight bow of her head, placing a calloused hand over her leather chestplate. Her mossy green eyes looked at both the hammers in Dovahkiin's hands and the whips that Phoenix held, and her lips twisted into a larger grin. "I came ta' help ya out, but you lot seem ta' have it under control. Not surprised since it looks like ya folks are friends wit' Darius n' Tibul."

"What is that accent?" Damian whispered to Bamf in a not very subtle way. Phoenix resisted the urge to smack him for such an insensitive comment, settling on sending a glare his way instead. In truth, she did find the woman's accent a bit difficult to understand. It was an odd dialect that she hadn't heard much of, despite the fact that she had traveled to many different places.

"I'm Phoenix and these are my companions." She mimicked the woman's slight bow, grimacing as she felt that the leathery material of the assassin's uniform was soaked with blood. Once introductions were out of the way, Kiligana eyed the middle stronghold with a curious eye.

"I d'nno about ya, but I'm a bit curious 'bout what's in there." She walked forward and knocked her axe against the cold metal door.

"We took out the men, so we get the treasure." Dovahkiin rumbled, crossing his arms as he watched her size up the door.

"We aren't here for treasure, Dova." The nickname slipped through her lips before she realized what she had said, but Phoenix brushed it off as a habit from long ago. "We're here for answers about the men who are trying to kill us."

"I mean there's still a chance of treasure." Dovahkiin argued, pressing a large hand against the metal and shoving it open. With a screech of metal scraping against stone, it opened to reveal a large room with two figures standing next to a shining chest. One of them, a blue teifling, turned to them with an easygoing grin.

"Nearly ten minutes." He sighed, his long fingers tapping against the wooden chest in a consistent rhythm. "I expected more of the protigees of Darius and Tibul."

#birthright #story #original story #dungeons and dragons #dnd #Darius and Tibul #D&T's #d&d #writing #original writing #writings #phoenix #phoenix kings #damian #Damian Vortex

[swiss-army-fangirl]

1-20 >:3c

thank u turk...god bless u (doing this on desktop bc i’m SMART)

1. What was the first race you ever played as?

pretty sure it was elf? it was technically in pathfinder but that’s not important

2. What was the first class you ever played as?

druid. i had a wolf companion named moon moon. i loved him.

3. Have you ever been dungeon master?

i haven’t, bc i’m really bad at improv and have a short attention span

4. How many times have you been dungeon master?

05. What is your favorite race?

that i’ve played? teifling. that i like to admire from afar? aasimar.

6. What is your favorite class?

i really like playing as a fighter, since you just roll to hit shit, and it’s really easy to swing a big sword around.

7. When was the last time you played d&d?

last saturday! my group started our new campaign, i’m playing as a paladin with a backstory of “dragon casualty” (look it up its great)

8. Do you prefer theater of the mind or minis and grids?

i like to have a drawn out map just so i have a jumping off point for images in my head, but other than that i prefer “imagination”

9. What is the funniest thing anyone has ever said in a d&d session you’ve played in?

in the campaign i’m in with turk ( @neboou ) and kimber ( @lars-and-sadie-doyle ), we were running through a sequence that required a lot of sudden disappearances and reappearences. it made me think of a bad video game so i said we glitched, and then turk and i accidentally made it canon that every time we loaded into a new area, our characters t-posed for a second, and it made me laugh so hard i cried. and we reenacted it every time.

we also started incorporating “chinken nunget” and “phucking beesechurger” but we had to ban those words because it would pull us off drag in seconds.

10. What is the most annoying thing that has happened during a d&d session you’ve played in?

there’s one person in my college campaign that doesn’t pay attention half the time we’re playing, and then asks questions that would be answered if she were just paying attention. and then she gets antagonistic with the dm when he doesn’t let her do something that’s not within the realm of physical possibility.

11. What is your favorite edition of d&d?

5E, but i also am a n00b who hasn’t played any other one

12. What is your favorite 5e book?

tesoboam. not a book but there’s a lot of shitpost docs between the three of us and it’s better than anything wizards of the coast could ever make don’t @ me

13. How many d&d characters have you made?

many. at least 6. one of them is dead forever, another one got sucked into a void (bc i couldn’t come to sessions anymore), and the others are still kinda just existing....somewhere.

14. What is the longest d&d campaign you have ever been part of?

tesoboam by a long shot. counting the summer we started, it’s been going for two years, and we’ve somehow managed to avoid major character death for that long. it’s such a blast and i love my tiefling warlock bby and her dysfunctional family so much.

15. What is your favorite weapon?

greatsword. does lots of damage.

16. What is your favorite spell?

eldritch blast. reliable. powerful. the only good spell a warlock can do. 12/10

17. What is your favorite armor?

i enjoy heavy armor, since i tend to get hit a lot no matter where i stand and i hate getting one-hit KOed.

18. What level do you usually start your players at?

i don’t.

19.What level do you as a player prefer to start as?

level 2 or 3, because at level one if you get hit once you die and that’s frustrating af.

20. Do you like to play in big or small groups?

medium? i think between 2 and 5 is the perfect number. more than 5 and combat starts to take an insufferably long time (i played in a group of 8 once and one round of combat would literally take an hour)

thanks again turk ily

[grayintogreen]

18 for the new ask game! Especially turning wine back into water or that universe where Caleb and Essek keep summoning purple teiflings on accident! But I would love to hear about any of your stories in general!

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

TWBiW actually had a secondary plot line where at the beginning of each chapter i was going to flashback three days earlier to how the Nein got to where they ended up and like slowly unveil how they ended up in the cell as kids, but i liked the idea of there being this gap where its just unclear if that was the FIRST time they had cycled through as kids and it just took them three days to find the fort or if they were actually missing time.

But yes, i like to imagine an AU where the kiddos got stuck that way and Jester was able to successfully get a divine intervention to stabilize their memories and the Mighty Nein got a second childhood that was full of love and it’s terrible because OH NO POOR YEZA AND EVERYONE ELSE but also really cute??? Look, man. Look. It’s a bittersweet cuteness.

the Dumb Idea saga of Tiefling Summoning was pretty much exactly what I imagined it being. like I COULD have made the second one longer but I basically ended up taking the entire idea more seriously when I started Shattered Stage, so that story actually came out of those stories.

there is 100% an AU of this church takes no conversions where it wasn’t Cree/Lucien hours and it’s called “the entire story before the last two chapters” but I had dropped way too many hints to not just commit to it. But it was originally intended to just be Cree one-sided pining for 16 chapters. And I think this works better for so many reasons but it HURTS.

#Ask game #my writing #turning wine back into water #this church takes no conversions