#{ such as knowing how to use thieves tools

[seat-safety-switch]

When we were kids, we didn't have access to cool power tools. Every summer, when the soapbox derby race was coming, we'd break into my neighbour's garage while he was at work. Then, we'd use his drill press, lathe, table saw, all the fun tools. Over the course of a week, a race car was produced, which is more than the workshop ever made during the rest of the year.

Sure, we could have asked him if we could have borrowed his tools, but no doubt he would want to be there to supervise. And then he'd want to help. We'd never get done while we were busy indulging the suburb-tinged fantasies of someone who didn't take wood shop and chose instead to idly worship at the altar of Television Presents: The Fantasy of Bob Vila in adulthood.

One year, Old Man Garrett got a security system. Probably this was because Ted (fucking Ted) didn't clean up the sawdust that one time like we asked him to. The old man must have seen the footprint, and realized that he did not wear size-seven Nikes. Child thieves, casing his precious table saw! Now, our humble breaking-and-entering had become significantly more difficult than "reach a coat hanger under the door and pull the emergency release."

With the help of some of the high-school kids who were taking electronics class, we managed to defeat the security system. We did so using an ancient Japanese technique known as "distract Old Man Garrett while he's setting it, and then cut the wires to the panel." I think it loses something in translation, but you get the gist of it. That year's car was especially sweet.

In adulthood, I got drunk and bragged to some work buddies about our little scam. They responded in abject horror, because I was still occupying the weird hump in the middle of a normal distribution of "acceptable crimes." It was terrifying to them to see one of their own, one of the suburbanites, speak openly about largely-harmless property crimes. What if we had been hurt, they shrieked. Around the water cooler, I would become a pariah, unless I could make amends.

I did hunt down Old Man Garrett after that, still feeling the sting of rejection. He was still on the property, and he still had a beautiful collection of immaculate cabinet-making tools in the garage. I rang his doorbell and, when he answered, I told him the whole story. He laughed.

"I knew it was you dumb shits from the beginning," he bragged. "Fucking Ted -"

"Fucking Ted," I echoed, unconsciously.

"Fucking Ted left his library book on building race cars behind on the workbench that first year. You didn't let him drive, did you?"

I shook my head. "We ran the car into him if the hockey-stick brakes ever failed."

We had a good laugh about the whole thing that evening, and I returned to work with my soul cleansed. It's just a pity Ted didn't know how bad he actually was at crime, before he tried to knock over that liquor store and all.

[vixensdungeon]

Alright, time to talk about one of the hot button issues in D&D today: skills, and how they've evolved over the 50-year lifespan of the game. We'll start, of course, from the beginning.

Dungeons & Dragons (1974)

So there actually isn't a skill system here. But the primordial origins are there, in the various neat little procedures of adventuring. Firstly there are languages. Humans know the "common tongue," which at this point isn't a single language, it just refers to the local Lingua Franca. I think all non-human player characters are assumed to be in 20% of other creatures who speak the language along with their own one. You also know an alignment language (Lawful, Chaotic, or Neutral), and one additional creature language for every point of Intelligence above 10.

NPC reactions. This is rolled on a simple 2d6 table for recruiting hirelings. Another 2d6 table is for monster reactions.

Surprise rolls. There are no stealth or perception skills, and adventurers are simply assumed to be sneaking around while in dungeons, with surprise rolled when monsters are encountered.

Doors can be listened at and secret doors found, with simple d6 rolls.

There's also a chance of getting lost in the wilderness, which sort of implies a general ability to not do so in most situations.

And that's basically it! You can already see several different skills we know today forming in the primordial soup.

But you feel like something is missing, right? Ah, of course! We must take a little detour to

Greyhawk (1975)

Did you know that in the original game, the only classes were fighting man, magic-user, and cleric? That's right, the now classic thief would not be introduced until the first supplement! And with them came for the first time actual named skills.

Thieves could open locks, remove traps, listen for noise, move silently, pick pockets, and hide in shadows. Additionally they could read languages, treasure maps, and even magical scrolls at higher levels.

Now, these skills are only for thieves, so what are other characters to do? Well for most of them, nothing. It simply is not a fighter's job to pick pockets, or a cleric's job to open a lock. Certainly an item can be forcefully taken from an NPC, and a door bashed open, so they are not completely helpless in these tasks. But the thief simply excels at doing such things with superior ability and grace. And of course any character can hear noises behind doors, thieves are simply better at it. Moving silently and hiding are two slightly odd skills, as they overlap with surprise rolls but don't interact with them. It can be assumed that a thief moving silently can scout ahead and report back without actually encountering the monsters they find, and a hiding thief can let wandering monsters pass by even when there isn't sufficient cover (as only shadows are needed, other characters can obviously still hide behind cover if they are aware of the need to do so). Other characters can also climb using ropes and other tools, but won't be able to climb sheer surfaces unaided like thieves can, so again the thief can simply do something general in a superior manner.

There are many classes with their own skills to be found in various magazines, but I'm not going to dig through them. So let the totality of original D&D skills be the above.

Next time: we get Advanced

[samarecharm]

I wish the thieves had SOME kind of reaction to the Satanael awakening. Kinda wish we at least had RYUJI react to it….

I think its sooooo compelling to have Ryuji be the only person to witness BOTH awakenings; to see how much Akira and his will has grown since they first met. There was a raw, burning fury in Akiras core that recoiled at the injustice before him, and when given the tools to punish said injustice, eagerly accepted it with a wild, almost manic kind of intensity. I think it would be difficult for the others to truly grasp just how scary that was; that for a short moment, Ryuji couldnt pinpoint the cause of that rage, and the target of it. Akiras mellowed out alot since then, but its always in the back of Ryujis head; theres a side of their leader literally none of the thieves have or will ever see, and he doesnt really know how hes supposed to feel about that.

And now the airs charged in the same way he felt back in Kamoshidas palace; right as Akiras eyes widened at seeing him slammed against the wall. The blazing, untamed ferocity in his eyes from back then is replaced with a cool, calm, steely conviction. He knows his purpose; understands completely what his will screamed at him to understand back when it first started. This is the Akira the team knows, and its definitely the one Ryuji is used to now, but its insane to see the shift; insane to see the kind of power that simmered in Akiras core, literally too big and too overwhelming for past Akira to grapple with and set free.

Satanael comes down, and theres a moment, through all the excited screaming and hollering, where Ryuji can see it look right at him, and Ryuji is taken back to the floor of Kamoshidas Palace; not to the fear he felt when Arsene came forth incinerating everything, but immediately after, when Akira comes to with wide eyes and an outstretched hand- that bizarre feeling of safety, of knowing that this kid would have his back, and that hed never have to worry about where his place would be (its right beside him, obviously.)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Suddenly remembered something I wanted to say re:Akechi, because I think it's really core to his character (at least the way I interpreted him?) and I feel like it explains a lot of his contradictions. Essentially, he is incapable of seeing himself as just a person - he's either the greatest hero/detective ever, or he's some violent monster, and it's like there's no in-between. It's very in keeping with his obvious superiority-inferiority complex, but it goes deeper than that too; when he's in a role, it seems like his self-perception kind of changes too depending on how he is perceived by others. He really does get a confidence boost from being the Detective Prince. He really does shut down emotionally as the Black Mask.

They're masks that he's made, and it's not that aspects of them aren't based in truth to some extent, but I think it goes to show why he's not actually that fantastic a liar (imo, I found the outright lies pretty obvious), but he is a very good actor. He's either an angel or a demon, and never a person, but there are conditions to that. He is an angel when he is perfect - to society. He is a demon when he is vengeful - again, to society. He is never a person, because he never was seen as one - to society. He was disregarded. To be anything of value or notoriety, whether that's hero or villain, he has to be wildly more or less than who he actually is, and he's been building these masks up for so long that I really think he lost sight of the actual person behind it all. And I don't think he wanted to see that person anyways, because that person "wasn't good enough" and I do think he'd rather be anything other than himself. That trickery, that deflection from the person within, in itself brings him pride and satisfaction. He wants to be loved and needed instead of being cast aside, but I also think that if he can't have that then he'd much rather be hated than never have mattered at all. He weaponizes his own loneliness - if he can't ever be accepted then he'll build his own pedestal apart from everyone else.

It's so fascinating too, because I just wonder how much of this he was consciously aware of pre, during, and post engine room. There's this recurring thing with him where he goes "I can only be myself" etc but I just want to shake him because, well, who is that, Akechi??? Or, who do you think that is? Do you actually have an answer? Is it predicated on your actual feelings or solely on your success at fooling everyone around you? Is there any part of you that you actually like that isn't based on a painstakingly constructed mask? Isn't it all mostly lies to deflect from the truth? Isn't it all founded mostly on truth, nonetheless?

It drives me insane. And I think this is a big reason why he breaks so hard in the engine room, because so much of his mask requires his "audience" to perform in a particular way. And here he is, and the Thieves have beaten him, so there goes the first mask, because he's no longer "perfect". He swings wildly into the ugliest sides of him, but this mask is broken too, amidst him vehemently and desperately denying that he has any other emotions than hatred and rage, or any other needs or desires than vengeance. And after that, it's just him. And they should reject him, right? That's what happens. He's not useful, he's not needed or perfect, his hands are stained with blood. But the Thieves, again, don't play the role he expects them to. They, despite everything, relate to him - because he is in fact very similar in a lot of ways and they acknowledge him as a person - not a hero, or idol, or villain, or tool, or unwanted child - but as a damaged teen like the rest of them. And he does not know what to do with that. His identity is intrinsically dependent on getting the right reactions from other people as a form of ingratiating himself - if he does not get that reciprocal reaction he's looking for, his act falters, and, I really do believe that so does his self-perception. That's why you see different aspects of him seep out when he's spending time with Joker, because Joker does not react the way he expects, and Akechi both does and does not like this, because it leaves him feeling both intrigued and vulnerable.

I do think this particular aspect of his character is something a lot of the Thieves don't fully grasp - certainly, I think Joker "I need the mask" Persona 5 understands to a degree, but the sheer degree of reliance and the level of pride attached to it is something that confuses him a little, I think, especially in Mementos Mission. I think the thief that comes closest is actually Morgana, who has a similar superiority-inferiority complex and a desperate need to be seen as competent and useful lest he be discarded. (This is a big part of why the rather lackluster writing with Morgana's arc frustrates me so much because I really do feel it was meant to be contrasted with Akechi's, but I digress.) Morgana is the one to make that emotional appeal to Akechi, which makes a degree of sense - Morgana struggled all along with finding a place in the world. His form leads others to underestimate him; he visually doesn't fit in. He's acting out the role of a chivalrous and cool phantom thief but is more pragmatic with how he views relationships, at least at first. He wants a place to belong where he is appreciated more than anything but his pride won't let him spit it out. Accepting that he belongs and that he is loved even if he really did have nothing of value to provide is a big part of the resolution of his arc. He tries to offer that learned lesson to Akechi in turn ("Follow your true feelings. Even if you think people hate you, or don't want you around-"), but Akechi just wasn't in the right space to listen. There's also an important distinction between the two - Morgana envies humans and looks up to them. Akechi envies humans and looks down on them. Morgana is perfectly happy once he is assured a place amongst the group, but Akechi see-saws wildly between wanting to belong and wanting to be a step above the rest and separating himself further. So while Morgana actually really did cut to the core of the issue, his appeal would never have worked at this point because a) Akechi's pride is dependent on him maintaining his solo act, and b) he just got outed as not actually hating Joker in front of seven other people including Joker himself lmao.

So, uh, sorry, Morgana. Points for trying.

[nanenna]

Today I remembered that my favorite thing about having so many AUs is to pick up 2 AUs like Barbie dolls and clack their faces together while making smooching noises.

Behold my beloved DCxDP AU amalgamation monster: DeamonTwinAU and PhantomThiefAU (aka: Selina gives Danny a slutty slutty cat suit, good times)

The story vaguely goeth thusly: Danny is a halfa, the Balance, the Bridge Between Worlds, he is....... the Observants' glorified gofer. You see, there are a lot of cursed/enchanted/ghostly artefacts floating around loose in the living Realm and they need Danny to go retrieve them. Danny would rather not, but they just won't leave him alone about it. Can't a guy just live? At least let him poop in peace! Ancients! Fine, he'll do it if it'll get them to shut up. (Spoiler: it does, in fact, not get them to shut up.)

But you see, Danny has a secret: he was raised in an assassin ninja cult (at least for the early years) before getting adopted by the Fentons. Now the killing? Not a fan, no thanks, he's working on not increasing his kill count, thx. But the sneaking? He could use that. Sneaky ninjas are also good thieves, right? So he cobbles together a knock off League of Assassins outfit, buys a cheap portable lock picking set, and decides to make a game of how far can he get without using his powers (much. He's new at this okay?)

Batman is not having fun. There's some (possible?) League assassin running around stealing verified cursed/magical artefacts! Is Talia planning something? Is Ra's planning something? (Isn't he for real dead? Silly reader, no one is ever for real dead in DC.)

Robin is super frustrated. For all the same reasons Batman is but also because he just knows this new rogue is taunting him. Personally. Because he's Damian al Ghul Wayne and the whole world revolves around him, obviously. (And also because he once pointed at Robin and laughed before jumping out a window.)

Selina is intrigued. Who is this kid? How does he know what to go after? How does he keep evading the bats? Luckily she runs into him mid heist (fortunately they had different targets, she's intrigued but not enough to hand over her shinies to him) and oh he's adorable! She has to train him, it would drive Brucie up the wall. But then she sees his face and oh, she knows exactly who he is, even if he seems oblivious.

Because Danny? He's in Gotham for the ecto, for the Thomas Wayne full ride scholarship he managed to snag, and also because for some reason Gotham is full of so many cursed/ghost artefacts. (Lady Gotham is seething, she worked hard to collect all those curses! But this is her beloved dark knight's kid and she kinda wants him home. But she also doesn't want to give up her curses!) Back to the point: Danny doesn't care about ANY of the rich bougie people. The Waynes give out a lot of scholarships? Cool, that's nice and all. They probably also rub elbows with Vlad or Sam's parents. No thanks. Doesn't care. He's got better things to worry about.

Selina has got a plan though! She's gonna teach this boy how to thief properly, starting with better tools (including the slutty, slutty cat burglar outfit). She also knows that she can't let any of the Waynes (in or out of costume) meet Danny (out of costume). So does Lady Gotham. So does the universe apparently (or just Clockwork maybe), because all kinds of unlikely things keep happening to prevent it.

Danny is having so much fun though! He's learning new skills. Selina is giving him an allowance so he's not living off ramen and peanut butter sandwiches, he's doing well in school, he gets to stretch his ghost powers regularly to go above the smog cover and star gaze in peace. Everything's coming up Danny.

Selina decides it's time to flaunt her find in front of Brucie and makes Danny go to a gala as her date, she spends the entire time clinging to his arm and introducing him around to everyone. Including Bruce himself (who just so happens to have Damian in tow). Danny may not recognize Bruce, but he sure recognizes Damian, and Damian recognizes him if his utterly flabbergasted face is anything to go by. But Danny remembers what it was like living in the League. And so far as he knows Damian is still in it, he was the Demon Head's heir after all. Damian made sure of it.

Oh it. Is. ON! Now Danny is on a mission! A sibling rivalry mission! He is going to make Damian's/Robin's a living hell. Selina going on a heist that has no magical artefacts? Danny's there anyway, always have back up. That necklace in the museum has barely any powers and he wasn't even going to bother with it? Too bad, it's back on the list. He has no reason to be out at all but the bats are on patrol? Well so is Danny. Catch him if you can, suckers!

It's good for Danny, it's enrichment!

[deluxewhump]

bahkauv

cw: nonhuman whumpee, hunters of nonhumans, torture, burning as torture, fire-induced temporary blindness, mentioned digit crushing, self healing whumpee, it as a pronoun, restraints, muzzle, purchased for research

note: I've taken great liberties with this little german mythological creature. As you will see, its physical appearance is about ninety percent human in this story.

one: hunter's camp

The creature was in the worst shape Arthur had ever seen anything alive in. The fact that it looked so unnervingly human, especially from a distance, unsettled him even more.

Once they heard what it allegedly was, Stephan said it should have big paws and the short golden fur of a lion. Francis said that wasn’t right at all— it should have a human head and torso, legs like a calf with cloven hooves, and soft brown, white or black ears like a calf too… Stephan eventually elbowed Francis into silence as they approached a muddy paddock where the ill-fated things were corralled after being caught. 

It was mostly vampires in the hunter’s camp. Vampires were such a problem in the region that Arthur himself had been nearly recruited as a hunter this spring past. He’d been intrigued by the commission bonuses, the idea of travel and sleeping under the stars. He’d eyed the weapons and tools the hunters wore at their belts and tucked in their boots with admiration and envy. But he’d lost his stomach for it after seeing what he would have to do to the vampires he caught.

The Bahkauv was no exception, it seemed, despite being a rarer and much more regional phenomenon, not at all the infamous menace vampires had become. In fact, it seemed to Arthur that the thing was human as it cowered in the mud, eyes tracking the hunter that circled it. 

“How do they know it's a Bahkauv?” he asked aloud, not expecting his friends to have a response he didn't have himself. 

Meanwhile, the hunter sloshed a bucket of thick, oily substance onto the cowering creature and struck a match. 

“Oh good God,” Francis breathed beside him. All three of them were frozen in place, waiting to see if the hunter would toss the match.

He did. 

The substance now covering the Bahkauv was clearly some sort of accelerant. Pitch, maybe. Immediately, the fire spread over it and leaped three feet high so the creature appeared as a burning ball, invisible inside a wall of orange flame. Though they could not see it very well, they could hear it. Its shrieks of terror turned to screams of pain— agonized and gut wrenching. Francis was gripping Arthur’s forearm without realizing he’d done so, as if to say do you see this?His mouth was open in shock at the scene before them. Arthur glanced about. Some of the people, hunters and civilians alike, had stopped to see what this particular commotion was about, but they went back to their own business once they realized. This was not out of the ordinary. 

“We use the sun on the vamps,” said a hunter who had come up to the fence to watch. “Easy and extremely effective. But that thing doesn’t burn with the sun. They find drunken soldiers and latch onto them until they’re weak enough for them to attack. Vicious, thieving little creatures. And since there’s a lack of drunken soldiers wandering around alone here lately, who do you think we found this one leeching on?”

“A hunter?”

The hunter nodded.  “Unwise little thing, no? Sunlight doesn’t really bother it, but we found it a similar experience…” he nodded at the twisting and writhing flame in the paddock.  Whatever the substance was was finally burning off. The flames dwindled in the wet mud until they could see the creature beneath, now naked and terribly burned, but clearly alive. The screams tapered off to loud, alarming moans, separated by thin breaths drawn with great difficulty. 

“Why?” asked Arthur with an incredulity he later realized must have sounded terribly naive to a hunter. 

The hunter looked at him, deciding how to answer. In the end he just laughed, and clapped Arthur on the shoulder before wandering away toward the north side of the encampment.  

The one in the ring, dressed identically to the one Arthur had just spoken to, approached the Bahkauv. Arthur was now convinced it was not human after all, or it would not have survived that sustained heat for so long, with no oxygen to breathe. Right? Surely.

The hunter watched the thing struggling to breathe for a moment, tilted his head and toed it in the ribs with his boot. It shrieked in pain, eyes blind and white, blood and saliva dripping from its open mouth, its burned lips. The hunter seemed to consider the condition of the skin, which looked from a distance as though it was already changing from charred to red, from red to pink. 

“Is it healing?” Stephan asked in a low voice. He was not sure he wanted to know. 

“So quickly,” Francis muttered, his forehead deeply creased in distress. Even so, Francis could not help but watch. Arthur knew he was sharply observing, forming questions. His curious mind would not allow him to look away. 

Arthur, by no means a scientist or a scholar, wondered why it was he couldn’t stop looking. The hunter splashed more of the pitch-like substance onto the creature, who howled and threw up its hands protectively, uselessly, against the second lit match that was coming. 

“No,” Stephan exhaled in disbelief. “So soon?”

The flames flew to the accelerant faster than their eyes could follow, and the screams began in earnest again, filling the paddock. Arthur winced and looked away. 

“I need it,” Francis said, nodding emphatically. “Not a vampire. I need to take that to the University. Why study what everyone else is studying? Sure they’re rare, but that means my research would be rare, too. Possibly unique.”

“You don’t know what it’s capable of,” Stephan cautioned. 

“It likes to eat drunken soldiers, for God's sake," Francis argued to the backdrop of horrific wailing. “It will be tied up and muzzled, if we have to. And it's so... pathetic. Look at it."

Arthur and Stephan did. The flames had burned off again. The unfortunate creature was attempting to crawl away from the hunter, who was following it slowly. 

“It’s probably less dangerous than a vampire anyway. And it can move in the sunlight without being carried or making a scene.” Francis looked to them for support. Nearby, a shrieking vampire was being dragged into the sunlight. 

“This place is making me a bit ill,” Stephan said.

"I did warn you both." Arthur turned to Francis. “If you really think it’s a good idea, I’ll bargain for you. You’re too excited about it. They’ll realize they can rip you off.”

—

The Bahkauv was badly burned. This was nothing new, but each time was its own unending Hell. Every inch was agony as it crawled, blindly, across the paddock. The cool mud might have been a relief but for the way it sucked at the skin of its hands and knees, taking much of the ruined flesh with it as it made each slow inch of progress. It didn’t know where it was going. It only knew that staying put would mean more pain, and it could not tolerate any more pain. It was stripped to its barest instincts, and its instinct was to get away.

Dimly, it remembered the hunters didn’t like when it tried to get away from them, even just a few feet to curl up in a corner or against a fence. They’d stake it in place with one of their sharp vampire-sticks, through its hand or the tendons of its foot, grounding it in place to torment until it was mindless, incoherent and screeching like an animal.

Its melted sight began to come back, and it could see the blurry outline of men’s legs standing in front of it. It stopped crawling, paralyzed in fear. It could do nothing but lie on the ground and pant, throat and lungs burned from inhaling fire, but unable to die, just like the vampires in the sun.

A heavy collar was fitted around its neck like a yoke, and someone was yanking it roughly to a standing position. The Bahkauv shook so badly from the recent pain of burning that it collapsed once, twice. It cringed deeply as the hunter who held the leash backhanded its burnt cheek. “Up,” he hissed. “Do you want another round as a parting gift?”

“It’s fine,” said a new man's voice. “Enough. Enough. Here.”

Through slowly improving vision, it saw its leash change hands. It was not prepared to look anyone in the eye, even once it could see well enough to distinguish faces again.

It kept its eyes down, trembling violently as ropes were wrapped around its wrists and then looped through the collar so its hands had to stay crossed near its chest. A leather and iron muzzle was fitted over its head and tightened around the back of its neck. The sharp bit went to right the back of its throat, almost far enough to make it gag. The sides bit into the burnt flesh of its face. Once, it would have been ashamed of how it drooled pinkish foam in front of all these humans. Now it neither knew or remembered shame when the threat of more pain was present, which was always.

A man was picking it up. It hurt terribly, but all the Bahkauv dared to do was whimper through frantically grit teeth. Another pair of hands went under its armpits and hauled it higher, up and into the saddle of a chestnut horse. Each point of contact from the saddle was fresh pain, burnt skin and nightmarish friction. It tried to sit up on its own for as long as it could, but lacked the strength. Once the horse began walking in the direction of the road, it had no choice but to slump weakly against the chest of the man sitting directly behind it and holding the reins. 

It received no punishment, except for the way the man's rough clothes touched its skin. As the Bahkauv's sight returned to normal, it looked about to see two more men on horses of their own. Its healing skin itched and burned, but all it could do was twitch helplessly and watch the horse’s bobbing mane in front of it, or the leafy spring forest pass on either side. It shivered intermittently.

"Give it a blanket, Francis," one of the men said.

"Won't that hurt it? Its skin still shines like a burn."

"Remarkable how minor a burn it looks already though," said the man behind it in the saddle. "Considering."

The human voice, so close it could feel the vibration from it in its back, set it to trembling again.

Exhaustion from the days torture soon set in, and it fell into bouts of unconsciousness that only resembled sleep. It woke from one such period of dreamlessness with a startled flinch, unsure where it was or what was happening. The man he was riding with had his arm around its waist, anchoring it so it did not slump to either side and fall from the horse.

Dread and fear pooled in the Bahkauv’s stomach at the human contact, a large gloved hand splayed across its naked belly. Humans were cunning and cruel. They loved fire and tools, like the metal ones they used to crush its fingers and toes in the evenings when the sun was down and the screams of the vampires had quieted. 

It felt one of the others’ gaze on it and turned its foolish head, accidentally locking eyes with one of the men it was now traveling with. He was young, dressed in a jacket of dark green wool. He reminded the Bahkauv of the new recruits the hunters would bring in now and then, to see what they had the stomach for. Heart pounding, it looked away, and did not dare lift its eyes again until nightfall prompted the men to stop and make camp.

[charonarp]

Minecraft Diaries' Unofficial D&D 5e Guide

Do you enjoy the Minecraft Diaries series? Whether it be the original or through Diaries Rebirth?

Do you enjoy playing D&D or have ever wanted to play it yourself?

Have you ever wondered or desired to play in a tabletop roleplaying game in the world of Ru'aun and beyond?

Well, look no further than the UNOFFICIAL GUIDE FOR MINECRAFT DIARIES! (Created by yours truly :p)

It's finally here! I finally got it completed!!! (Primarily uses the 2014 version of D&D 5e)

This unofficial guide is meant to be used as a TOOL to help kickstart your adventures in the Minecraft Diaries universe. Unfortunately, there no character sheets made of the main cast of MCD or Diaries Rebirth, and that is indeed intentional.

Why? Because everyone has their own headcanons of each character individually. This guide is intended to be headcanon friendly and is open for you to shift and change to your liking!

Don't take everything in here as set-in-stone. Due to MCD being an incomplete story with unknown knowledge of most characters, this unofficial guide may (and does) have some incomplete or unwritten knowledge about certain locations and characters, which is why this is made with the intentions to be used as a general guide to help you create your own version of MCD for your players to enjoy.

Due to the lore of MCD being incomplete and not all villages and regions are fully fleshed out, some tools from Critical Role's TTRPG Daggerheart have been used, particularly their "community cards", to help provide a tool in creating or fleshing out communities. This can be as small as the Thieves' Guild to as big as O'khasis, meant to be used by both DMs and Players alike.

All official artwork from the MCD series is created by an artist named KamiWasa, who once worked for Aphmau and most notably the art in seasons 2 and 3 of Minecraft Diaries. There is only ONE drawing in there by me, which does have a credited handle right beside it :)

All resources (by the most part) have been mentioned and credited upon their use inside of this document. Go forth! Explore the world!

And most importantly, HAVE FUN :D

(btw there might be a few small things repeated a couple of times and I don't feel like going through and editing everything after working on this for who-knows-how-long so I apologize in advance)

[ladyxskywalker]

In Exile, ii

Anakin Skywalker x F!Reader/OFC

During his morning meditation on the mountain side, Anakin faces a new enemy

part one | part three

a choose your own outcome story !

weekly story polls posted at the end of each chapter !

hope you enjoy ! 💌

Cliffs

Anakin didn’t like very many people.

Not since forming a close bond with Obi Wan, and certainly not since falling in love with Padme.

The idea of love never even crossed his mind in the last few years living out his existence on this planet. Monotony, and isolation compounded all of that for him. It was no longer on his radar.

Wherever he ended up in life, he didn’t feel it necessary to speak to anyone, let alone form a friendship with them if he absolutely didn’t have to.

He kept his head down. Stayed quiet. Tended to his field everyday. Watched as his crops and trees took on shape and beauty. That was something he could relate to - hard work, and discipline. Doing his best, and making sure that he was absolutely ‘better’ than everyone.

they don’t know what I’m capable of…

But when his neighbor moved in on the plot of land next to his, everything started to change. A man who once lost his sense of humanity, started to become whole again. 

Her smile did that for him.

And the sound of her voice alone, seemed to have made things the slightest bit better again.

So, when she told him of her troubles the day before involving that lowly fisherman, he got angry. Even more so when he heard more about this from the villagers in town.

It took everything in him just to speak with the modest shopkeepers, and the elders. Going against staying silent in order just to help her.

what do you know about him?

he’s a defector! a scoundrel!

fled fighting in the war?

I don’t know where from, but yes. took off during the clone wars.

how did he end up here?

bar fight, ended badly.

what do you mean?

stole from someone, then killed them. had a bounty on his head but escaped, somehow ended up here.

he won’t be here for long…

we’re good people, lars, none of us asked for thieves and criminals to infiltrate our home…

If only they knew…

As he begins to feel one with all of his thoughts, a light breeze begins to pass through all of the trees behind him. The sweet melodic song birds, delivering their peace to all of the mountainside. Everything is green here. The water, freshest just from falling. All that was once jagged is now made smooth again; the river, freely flowing over all of the stones and rock.

It reminds him of a time when everything made more sense. At least, that is what he settles with during his daily meditation. Breathing like this with his eyes closed makes him feel as though he has some sort of purpose, a reminder that, yes, perhaps I can in fact be whole again. 

But, it’s this one fight that’s been holding him back from all of it.

A kind face, that no matter how hard he tries, can never be forgotten.

Frankly, it’s become somewhat of an annoyance…

A beautiful, and persistent, growing sort of distraction…

you’re nice to me.

I try.

“Ha! Would you get a load of this! Tough guy seems to be one with nature! I know what you really are!”

there he is, perfect timing. 

“And what’s that? I’m just dying for you to tell me…”

With his eyes closed, Anakin smirks, where instinctually he feels the vagrant in question pacing back and forth behind him. 

his steps make the grass fold.

a few twigs have snapped.

“You’re soft! Defending some disgusting woman! What’d you think I wouldn’t hear about where you are?”

“That was my plan all along, not my fault you fell for it.”

there goes a splash into the water.

an echo of a floating basket behind him.

Anakin stands, turning to see what the sound was, only to find broken stems, and dirt, clouding the bottom of a nearby waterfall.

Rose petals. Scattered thorns...

Sunflowers, and broken glass jars.

Stolen garden tools.

Homemade favors, and jam, wrapped in woven cloth of all colors, strewn about the neighboring rocks. 

“You’re nothing, Lars, just like the rest of us! Who knows if that’s even who you really are!”

He smirks, all while lifting the palm of his hand, and controlling the air around them. Watching as his newfound enemy begins to choke on his own breath.

“Perhaps it is best that you address me from the floor.”

Anakin circles him, all while tightening his grip around his neck through the force.

“I was…right…you are…”

With a sharp and instant motion, all at once, he slams him toward the ground.

“Enough.”

Then, he continues with his onslaught.

“It seems you know exactly who I am, and what I’ve done. So the rest is only inevitable…”

His enemy’s eyes are ruthless, but there is only silence. A quiet he can not withhold.

“You’ve led a kind woman into great distress. Destroying her livelihood. And for what? Because she denied you?”

Anakin backhands him, a hardened blow to the face that manages to break the force’s hold.

“Coward.”

He then lands a strengthened kick to his stomach, before stepping on his throat.

Through the grit of teeth, the fisherman snarls.

“You’re…no General…”

“How would you know? You never fought in my war.”

he’s been spreading falsehoods about me and my family throughout the village…

“All you’ve done is harass an innocent girl. Do you take pride in that? What makes you so miserable?”

Releasing his boot, Anakin slowly walks toward the wildflowers. For a second he thinks about collecting some of them when he’s done here. And…the possibility of how they would look on her, worn as a pretty crown.

“She’s nothing but a whore!”

With his back turned, so viciously, he smiles.

“So unfortunate…”

As the nameless vagrant begins to rise to his feet, the entire mountain begins to rumble, causing him to stumble and fall.

“...that now you will be no more than a pile of dust.”

With a menacing crack, Anakin’s wrath lays claim to all of the Earth, forcing his enemy over the ridge ahead of him; listening to his screams ring out from the shattered edges of the cliffs.

what have I done?

why should I feel remorse?

I did nothing wrong...

he deserved it...

“He won’t be a problem anymore.” 

The words come easily, but they are only above a whisper now.

Everything is strangely quiet, where the trees no longer move.

It reminds him of the calm that happens right before a powerful storm.

Except, the carnage has already happened…

And he feels all the more alone.

… ❤️

thanks so much for reading & sharing this story ! I hope you are enjoying the choose your own outcome polls. it has definitely been a lot of fun getting to write these short scenes. sometimes I don't even know what will happen next until I am actually writing them ! I would love to know what you think. 💌😊 xo A

[sendou-shiki]

We thank you all for your cooperation! We will continue to alert you to the situation, so please tell those around you who have been duped!

I received an apology from someone who didn't know anything about it, saying ‘I'm sorry I reblogged this without knowing it was an impersonator.’I didn't know about it and I don't have a choice. We are all victims of thieves. 😢

It's not a good start, but I think that's how some of you got to know me and followed me! Thanks for liking my art! We will be updating the cute furry art, so please ignore, block or report thieves' reposts and enjoy the fresh, original art here!

I use a translation tool, so I apologise if it is unnatural! I hope you can understand my feelings!

千堂しき

[vashtijoy]

shido's conspiracy is big: koenkai (supporters associations) in japanese politics

How do you take over Japan, if you're a corrupt piece of shit?

On 11/25, when the Shido's Palace mission starts and you're finally released from captivity in Leblanc, the Modest Housewife in the Shibuya underground mall suddenly becomes the Not-So-Modest Housewife. And what does she tell us?

shido has a what now

What's the "supporters association"? In Japanese, it's a 後援会 kouenkai. From Wikipedia:

Koenkai (後援会, lit. "local support groups") are an invaluable tool of Japanese Diet members, especially of the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). (note: in P5, this is the "Liberal Co-Prosperity Party" or LCP, Shido's original party and the original ruling party.) These groups serve as pipelines through which funds and other support are conveyed to legislators and through which the legislators can distribute favors to constituents in return.

The article is fascinating; do give it a read, as I can't possibly do it justice here. These are massive organisations, and relay vast amounts of cash to their members. They organise endless activities for their members—that meeting at the Wilton Hotel on 5/5 is one. They often require a personal connection to be invited, which is why the Housewife says this to her friend:

... she knows she wasn't invited.

Though koenkai are weaker in modern times, there are many examples of them being involved with corruption; here are a couple.

"The Asahi reported in the mid-1970s that the [koenkai of former Prime Minister Tanaka Kakuei] "virtually controls… agricultural committees, popular welfare committees, election management committees". This thorough penetration of Tanaka's koenkai into all important facets of Niigata's people's lives propelled him into becoming the father figure of the district. After his arrest in 1976 on corruption charges, many of Niigata's residents still expressed deep respect towards him."

"Due to the huge support [former Prime Minister] Takeshita Noboru enjoyed as a result of his koenkai, his electoral district in Shimane came to be known as ‘Takeshita Kingdom'. Despite being embroiled in many political scandals, related to insider trading and corruption (for which he was never charged), Takeshita's immense local support never waned."

so what does this tell us

In short, Shido's conspiracy is not a few corrupt high-level officials. It's not just Shido, Akechi, the SIU Director and those people on the ship. It is a vast organisation.

It recruits people by reputation (remember those five recommendations in the Palace?) from all levels of society—and those recruits then operate as a bloc, networking, doing favours for each other, advancing their mutual interests, connected via a hierarchy to Shido at the top. This is why Shido can control everything.

It also explains why everyone seems to be linked to the conspiracy—including the hapless Principal Kobayakawa. Did you think it was unrealistic for him to be involved? It seems likely that he was just a low-level member of Shido's koenkai.

When Shido needed someone at Shujin to investigate the Phantom Thieves, Kobayakawa was there—because they have people everywhere. A quick phone call from a higher-up in the organisation—the SIU Director, most likely, who we know Kobayakawa speaks to—and he's eating out of Shido's hand. And will do anything he wants....

So Kobayakawa wasn't anybody at all. He wasn't important. He wasn't somehow part of the deep state. He was just one of likely hundreds of thousands of paid-up Shido supporters looking to advance themselves, getting the vote out, and funding the cause.

He was in the right place at the right time. After all, the koenkai got Kobayakawa his job at Shujin. All his hopes for advancement are centred on it:

Because just like the two housewives in the underground mall, and probably like everyone else in the koenkai, Kobayakawa is a desperate social climber, impressed by wealth and fame and power and flashy titles.

I hope he thought it was worth it.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2023/10/31)—first posted.

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Heads up this post will contain mentions/comparisons of SA and forced breeding:

This has been something worming about in my head for a bit. I know those of us writing the smut fiction have a good number of the primarchs with breeding kinks, aware of or otherwise. And it got me thinking "why?"

Like it makes sense, but why? Outside of "it makes my brain go buurr"

And for me, at least, is what I feel. A comment made it snap into place: the only form a reproduction a space marine knows is his gene-seed being harvested to make new Astsrtes.

The primarachs all without a choice had their DNA used to make their "sons". There was no autonomy in what they wanted. While they weren't bred say how most narratives are used. Or assaulted in the traditional sense. They were voiceless in this. All done before they were even found. Maybe before they were even adults. "Fathers" before they were even a teen.

The space marines are genetically altered and in a sense a twisted form of offspring to the Primarchs. One that isn't birth, but created in a cold lab, and more vicious than any birth. Many never allowed to remember those who made the body and soul. The actual mother and father.

The primarachs are thieves who steal children to be their own in some twisted idea of family, but only on the surface. Because tools don't have families.

So the idea to make a child, because they want it. Not because it's how it is, or required. That someone wants to create a life that won't be brain washed, and forces to take on aspects of them through science and manipulation.

Something with a mind of its own, and will love them, not because they have to, but want to. And I feel like primarchs like Lion and Guilliman, this could become more apparent as I see their time in stasis, has, I think, caused a level individuality to emerge and growth.

Mostly in Guilliman, who always looked forward to a time when he wasn't needed to fight wars constantly.

[gachagon]

I love it when characters who were previously incredibly pompous and egotistical realize that the pedestal they've placed themselves on is actually worthless given the current situation they're now in.

Kaiser is realizing now that his idea of what it takes to be on top, to be the best striker is wrong and that it's probably been wrong for a while. And that's really got to suck, because while Kaiser has accomplished a lot of great things, ultimately his goal pales in comparison to the people he now has to go up against. Isagi and the other Blue Locker's aren't just there to rise up the ranks slowly, this is a last man standing program and Kaiser isn't strong enough to stand on his own.

He had become a great player, but he's not the best player. And he needs to be better in order to even have that position of acclaim in the first place. I am reminded of what Isagi taunted him with earlier, calling him a "Naked Emperor/King" which is an obvious reference to the "Emperor's New Clothes".

In that short story, a king orders himself new clothing that outshines everyone else and so the court creates "Invisible Clothing that only he can see" for the King. The king accepts the clothes and "wears" them, and so to him he is wearing the finest cloak imaginable, but to everyone else he is just a naked man making a fool of himself.

In a way, Kaiser ended up being the naked emperor in that he only came to the realization that his past achievements weren't good enough to stay in the team until this very game with Isagi.

I really think that fear of losing everything he worked for was always holding him back from really going above and beyond as well, because while he does have the support of a partner to do passes for him and he's able to read the field accurately, he doesn't take chances that tougher opponents hand him.

His backstory as a thief really puts this into perspective too because thieves wait for the right moment to strike instead of going out into the open to steal. And just like a thief, everything they get is "unearned" because they just take it from other people. In a way, you could almost say Kaiser's position as the best and the king was unearned because he hadn't actually done what needed to be done in order to get to that level.

And that's why I think this makes him so upset when Ness rattles off all of the thing's he's done, because ultimately none of those things will really amount to anything if he can't keep control of this team and be the best among them. It won't matter if he's scored a goal in every match, or if he's gotten offers from top teams, his goal is to be better than everyone and right now some dude from a no name prefecture in Japan is wiping the floor with him, and easily.

You really gotta feel sorry for Ness too, because he thinks of himself as one of Kaiser's "accomplishments" in a way, but Kaiser literally doesn't care about him enough. He just see's Ness as a tool to use, someone who's easily replaceable and loyal like a dog.

My moot (@miyamiwu) made a really good observation about how Ness might just leave Kaiser soon if he doesn't keep playing in that magical way that captured Ness in the first place, and I think that's true now especially since Kaiser himself seems to also realize it. When he's thinking about all of the achievements he could potentially lose if he doesn't win this, Ness is one of them.

"I thought I was becoming human." Is so sad too because I think deep down he really did think that by being close to Ness that he was truly becoming a normal player, that he was on the fast track to achieving his goals. But because he doesn't really know what that goal is anymore, the rug has been pulled from under him now and he has to literally reevaluate what is probably years worth of self reflection.

I also think this chapter is Kaiser ditching the rose as a symbol of his ego because he's truly looking back on things and realizing that the object that really gave him solace wasn't that symbol of the impossible, but the soccer ball itself. He is coming to terms with the fact that without soccer, he doesn't have anything at all, and that it is the only reason he was even able to get this far or have the courage to fight back against his abusive shitty dad.

Instead of the rose tattoo being here, we see there's a new tattoo that's prominent now and it's in the shape of a crown. And rather than being in a place where he's most vulnerable (his neck), the tattoo is on his hand, which I think symbolizes how he is able to take his own freedom and by extension his own place as a king with his own two hands.

Kaiser's solitude is something he really needs to become the best, because if he can't do it alone, than he can't do it at all. He is clinging desperately to the things he has managed to gather throughout these years, including Ness' loyalty and he's so afraid of losing even one of those things that it's making him a worse player.

However, whether or not being totally alone is what he needs to heal as a person is another thing entirely, which is ultimately why I don't think Kaiser will ever beat Isagi and that if he does it'd actually be the worst ending for him. Throughout this entire manga, Kaiser comes off as a really calculated person who's always thinking ten steps ahead, but inside he is just a damaged kid who is using soccer as his one means of coping with the trauma he faced as child.

And that phrasing "I thought I was becoming human" really just makes me feel so sad for Kaiser, because to him if he doesn't have soccer he is less than human and has nothing to give back to the world. He has never allowed himself any time to just be a normal teenager and just make friends in a healthy way, and the one friend he does have might just up and leave if he's not playing in a groundbreaking way. He thinks so lowly of himself that he hinges his entire identity around how other people perceive his abilities in the game, and if he's not the best at the game, he surely can't matter that much as a player, no matter how much Ness tries to placate him with words about how he's "already done enough".

Ego Jinpachi said it as well after Nagi made his really good goal, that some people are content with just being average and "good" instead of being great. And that it's because they're content with where they are in life, that they never advance at all. The idea that they are totally fine in their current position makes them lose the drive they normally would have if they weren't still thinking about trying to get better.

And Blue Lock's philosophy hinges on the player wanting to always get better and better and beat the other players on the field. Being "good" is never enough, hell being "Great" isn't enough at times, you need to be the best forever. You need to make it so that dethroning you is an uphill battle.

[aerkame]

In the finfolk au, what if y/n knew not to give Wally their real name (or at least was weary of him and didn’t trust him enough to tell) and tried to give a nickname instead? Would he know instantly they were lying? And how would he try to get them to say their real name? Also, how would he and everyone else react if y/n upon transforming into a mermaid was terrified and tried to escape?

If Wally doesn't take notice of something Home is there to help... Side note: Normal puppets are just the equivalent of humans in this AU to prevent confusion.

EDIT: ACK, just remembered the last part of the ask. I shall make a part 2 to this ask then. Hopefully the anon will be able to see it when it gets posted!

You were always warned about the finfolk. Luckily you weren't exactly a normal puppet so you doubt that any of the residents here would try to trap you on the island with them. But that small bit of paranoia kept you on your toes...well crutches. Your leg was still healing and as far as you could tell you'd be staying at 'Home' until the injury healed.

"My name is..." You thought of something quick, giving Wally a fake name. You don't know what exactly will happen if you give him your true name, but you've heard plenty of times now to never ever give it out to the fae, demons, angels, or the finfolk.

The tall puppet clicked his felt tongue before placing his hands behind his back. "What a lovely name."

---

Wally is well aware that you have been lying to him, but who is he to try and pry information out of you? He shook his head at the thought. While the finman really wanted to just force the name out of you, it would be better to get you comfortable here first, and then they could begin their goal on making you a permanent resident. Just like they did with Frank.

Speaking of which...he turned around to look at the puppet in question, humming in delight upon seeing you two get along, sipping tea and sharing stories.

Frank was the perfect tool to get you to open up really. He had no issues with the island, he understood selkies and their current dwindling numbers, he was level-headed, and most importantly, he was a normal puppet before. He could relate to you in a sense. The grey puppet even helped you lean towards staying or at least consider the possibility of staying here, having brought up the issue that poachers and criminals alike will do nothing but continue stealing selkie coats for profit.

"Quite frankly, you might be better off staying here. You and I both know there is not much out there for selkies and it's only going to get worse with the constant poaching and coat thieves, your kind are on the brink of extinction for stars sake."

Frank sighed after his mini-rant, having worked himself up. The topic of poaching and hunting exotic or near-extinct species was an upsetting topic and it was easy to tell. You didn't speak much for a while after that, continuing to listen to Frank while sipping at the hot beverage. "Hey...Frank, if I did decide to stay would the others even be alright with that?" Your voice cracked a bit. You don't know why, but it felt like eyes were pinning you to the plush seat, demanding that you stay put.

His eyebrows quirked and he gave you a questioning look. "I have no doubt that the neighbors wouldn't mind you staying." He crossed his arms looking more stern now. "If anything I'd say that you would be safer here with us."

You gave Frank a small smile. The eyes followed you.

---

"So, neighbor. I heard that you've been getting quite comfortable yes?" Wally swished his wine in small circles before taking a sip, not once taking his eyes off you.

"oh, uhm, yes! It's very nice here, there are so many smaller islands and lots of places to explore. And the colorsss..." Your words slurred slightly "so many colors evenn in the plantss. I've never seen any place like thiss! I mean even the insects and fish are unique here, Frankyy showed me his whole collection which he says isn't done ye-" Your face was beet red and the finman could tell he had you drunk enough once you couldn't stop talking yourself into a mess.

Carefully leaning over, Wally placed a hand on yours as he rubbed circles into your palm. Time to butter you up.

"You know, you could always stay with us here, forever. You'll never not be bored, you'll have friends, and you'd be safe." He inhaled, the small but hidden slits behind his cheeks opening, smelling the scent that lingered on your form remembering it was the perfume he gave you. He sighed, content.

Wally looked down at your small body. You had stopped rambling and now you were avoiding eye contact, preferring to look down into your lap or looking off to the side.

"Ah...you know, I could never get your name out of my mind. It's just so wonderful...If you did stay I could call you by it all I want." He leaned in closer, softly grabbing hold of your chin to lift it up, making sure he could see your eyes.

A thumb brushed over your mouth "I just wished there was more I could do to help you..." He breathed out your false name and watched you struggle internally...good.

"Uhm, actually, Wally, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Oh? I'm all ears." His plan was going along flawlessly.

Wally softly let go of your face, but remained close, fixing you in a position of feeling pinned. "I-I lied. About my name. I lied aboutt a lot of things." Some of your letters still slurred but it was obvious you were trying your hardest to think clearly.

"That's alright dear, I knew the whole time, but I figured you had a reason." Wally was grinning ear to ear.

"My real name is..." Your named slipped your mouth.

Yellow hands flew up to cup your cheeks. Wally held a mixed face that was of bliss and excitement. "Oh my darling I am so sorry I've called you by another name this entire time! Please allow me to make up for it with another dinner? Same time tomorrow."

Your head felt fuzzy as you nodded along to whatever he said. "It's- alriight." You felt numbed. Wait...

A part of you panicked for a second, having snapped into the the realm of reality, but you calmed down shortly after. You trusted him. Wally would never harm you or trap you right? He and the others have been all too kind and welcoming and if they really wanted to trap you they'd have figured out a way by now. Your thoughts were so rapid, everything is fast, too fast.

Wally was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't pay attention to your swaying body until he heard a loud 'thud' and looked down at your sleeping form.

Oh dear, maybe that beverage was too strong for you to handle.

TL;DR

Don't get drunk around Wally. He's a finman and won't get drunk as easily... and he'll probably take advantage of that to get info out of you. Or he'll just make you a blushing mess.

[dranathedragon]

I’m a D&D nerd, who is currently obsessed with Dead Boy Detectives, so of course the “What class would everyone be?” thought has been tickling me. I’ve seen a few other people post their thoughts on it, and I’ve been reading the amazing “Messrs Payne and Rowland’s Adventuring Agency” by @terresdebrume whenever it updates. Seriously, it’s really good, highly recommend. So I figured I’d throw my hat in the ring and see what anyone else’s thoughts are while I’m at it. Just doing the core four in this post.

So let’s get the easy one out of the way first, Crystal. She’s 100% a sorcerer, her power comes from her bloodline, she was born with it. Because she’s psychic based I’d say she’s specifically an Aberrant Mind sorcerer, without all the deep space tentacle monster baggage. Though she does have disembodied floating eyeballs in her psyche so MAYBE!

Next up is the second easiest, Edwin. He’s a wizard, everyone knows he’s a wizard. What KIND of wizard though? I’m going with Order of Scribes. He loves that little notebook so much, it gained sentience. How awesome would it be, if in this D&D version of the show, Edwin’s notebook didn’t follow him to hell because it was his sentient spell book, and it stayed behind with a purpose? It stayed behind because it KNEW Charles would never leave Edwin there and he would attempt a rescue. It KNEW Charles would go, and it KNEW it had to stay behind to help him. It showed him the things he needed to see, the information and maps that would reunite him with their wizard. I just love that.

Next up is Charles. He was a little tougher. I’ve seen quite a few posts saying that he’s a barbarian, and at this, I must object. At least with the criteria I’m using I suppose. Charles’ power doesn’t come from his rage. The one time we see him using his rage to fight, Edwin’s horrified and worried reaction pretty much confirms this was wildly out of character for him.

Just as an aside, I’m a firm believer of when Edwin said, “That was extreme”, he wasn’t talking about knocking the night nurse off the cliff. He was talking about Charles’ reaction in general, it was an extreme REACTION. He’d never seen Charles act with that much anger, hate, and violence before. He’s not an attacker, he’s a defender. It scared him, but he was scared FOR Charles, not OF him. Our wizard just isn’t great at people’ing. That’s a discussion for a different post though! Back to the topic at hand!

So, if I don’t think he’s a barb, what is he? Well, I’ve got two possible options. One thing that’s said quite a bit in the show, is how charismatic Charles is. And let’s face it, he is. So, using that logic, I’d say he could possibly be a Paladin. Specifically, an Oath of Devotion Paladin. I mean, come on, his power would so come from his extreme devotion to his favorite wizard. That would be a fun one, but there’s my second option which I find slightly more plausible.

It’s shown multiple times in the show, that while Charles claims to be just the brawn, he’s actually very clever and capable of thinking outside the box. Not to mention, he’s all about magic items. Bag of holding, enchanted cricket bat, enchanted jar/paper weight, enchanted lullaby ball, the disguises, the list goes on. So he’s smart and specializes in magic items, that screams Artificer. I’d say he’s a Battle Smith Artificer, some of their specialty spells are based around defending/supporting their allies, and you can’t tell me he wouldn’t find having a little robot pet, sorry STEEL DEFENDER, completely aces. He’d also name it like “Steve” or something and treat it like it was his and Edwin’s child, fight me on that lol. (Jk, don’t fight me I don’t like conflict!) Update: Charles’ lock picking has been mentioned and it just added to this for me as Artificers get expertise in thieves’ tools. How did I forget this?!

So that leaves Niko, who is kind of the wild card. I saw at least one post saying she’d be a bard, but I don’t think that’s accurate. Bards are all about attention (well mostly, I guess whispers would be an exception but she wouldn’t be a whispers anyway) and the whole sprite possession thing seemed to kinda make her uncomfortable with it. Idk, it just doesn’t really fit right to me. On the same thread though, so far in the show, Niko’s only real power is to see the dead. That might be expanded if we get a second season (🤞🏻), but for right now, that’s all she’s got other than being a good friend and excellent reading comprehension skills (which I might revisit this using that last one later). That said, since she got that ability (technically) because of the sprites (more because they almost killed her, but also they’re with her in the igloo so this still might work!) I’d say Niko is a Warlock. Just by the by, I hate that the class is called “Warlock”. That’s a word that came from an old English word meaning “oath breaker or he who breaks their oath”. Warlocks are all about MAKING not BREAKING pacts. Just a weird choice but MOVING ON! Since the sprites seem kind of Fey, I’d say she’d be a Pact of the Archfey. Nothing to do with the pact’s skill set, since we’d have nothing to compare it to, just because they seem fey to me.

So that’s what I’ve got so far. I might think of other characters’ later, like what would Jenny be etc. What do you guys think? I like to hear other people’s opinions on this! It’s fun to bat around!

[bg-brainrot]

Time to write something for the BG3 Holiday Fluffle! I wanted to do it for days, but finally got around to it-- fluff!

Prompt: Twinkling Lights

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife

Premise: Astarion and Rogue!Tav are more used to snuffing lights out, not putting up lights, but after a visit from one of their former companions, they realize that maybe, just for the season, they can make an exception.

Tags: Fluff, heights?, Established Relationship, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, decorating

Word count: ~800

“Come on, Astarion,” you say, pushing your lover to the front of your house. “It won’t take longer than an hour.”

“That’s an hour we could better spend doing literally anything else,” he responds in a whine, all but digging his heels into the ground.

You can see the hardline of his shoulders as he resists, the open distaste on his face, but you don’t relent. “Gale said our house looked depressing. We don’t want our house to look depressing. Or to be made fun of by Gale!”

It was a winter tradition, to decorate your abode in bright lights and garish colors– something about warding against ice elementals in the chillier months. Likely some old wive’s tale, but you don’t care. You refuse to let Gale criticize your as-of-yet undecorated house.

“But it’s chilly outside,” he says with an exaggerated pout on his face. “Surely you wouldn’t make your sad, cold lover endure the snow?”

“It’s not snowing, Astarion,” you say, gesturing through your door to the clear night sky in front of you.

The vampire gives a click of his tongue, and finally begins to walk forward. “Ugh, fine, but I expect you to warm me up once we’re done.”

“It would be my pleasure,” you reply, as you follow him out the door. “Now grab on to the other end of this string of faerie lights that Gale gave me.”

Astarion dutifully takes the opposite end as you begin to climb the face of your house. “Darling, what in the sweet hells are you doing?” he asks, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

“Putting up these lights, what else would I be doing?” you respond, from halfway up the house.

He gives you a smile, a forced one that shows the tips of his fangs. “Yes, I see that. But don’t you want to use a ladder or perhaps a scroll?”

You pause your climbing for a moment. “Huh, that would have been a good idea. I’m already here though. Don’t worry, love! I’m a professional.”

Astarion remains silent for a moment, and you can practically hear the thoughts coursing through his head. I love an idiot. What am I supposed to do with this idiot? Why are these silly little lights worth any of this effort? This is all Gale’s fault.

All the while, you string up the lights with the help from your belt of thieves' tools. You begin humming a holiday song once you find a steady balance.

You enter such a lull that when Astarion next speaks, you almost fall off in surprise. “I think I can catch you.”

“What?” you ask, certain you’ve misheard what your lover said.

“If you fall,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “In fact, I know I can catch you.”

You’re not sure if it’s the cold air or the unwarranted confidence in Astarion’s voice, but you feel a chill run down your spine. “No thank you, dear. We might both perish.”

He scoffs, placing his hands on his hips, ready to argue his point. The sudden movement accidentally jerks the string of lights out of your hand, throwing you off-balance. Your foot slips and your arms frantically spin as you to try to right yourself.

“I’ve got you!” you hear below you, before you begin to plummet.

The hard crash you were expecting never came, and you find yourself floating gently down to the ground, landing squarely in Astarion’s waiting arms.

You look at him, quizzically. “How did you–”

He laughs at your confusion, before placing you gently on the ground. “I stole Gale’s boots.” As if to prove his point, he shows a foot off to you. You recognize the boots as Mystra's Grace, remembering that they grant Featherfall to their user. “I mostly did it because Gale annoyed me, who knew they would come in handy!”

“Oh,” you breathe out, heart still pounding in your ears. “Good foresight, dear.”

The grin he gives you is wicked as he responds, “Clearly a sign from the gods to steal from Gale more often.”

You give him a lighthearted smack on the arm before you turn back to the house, lights half-hung, haphazardly strewn across your roof. “What do you think?” you ask him, a grimace on your face.

“I like it. Very… artistic,” he turns toward it, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you in to admire your ‘handiwork’ with him. A moment passes of simply staring into the loud, vibrant lights before he continues, “You know I’m more used to a life in the shadows, but I suppose this is nice too.”

You lean into his embrace, tilting your head toward him as you respond, “Isn’t it? Though, I do think I still prefer the shadows.”

“Mm, why is that?” Astarion asks, humming into your hair.

“It’s far less embarrassing when I slip,” you mutter as you bury your heated face into his shoulder.

[dearest-painter]

Oneshot of platonic yandere!miguel comforting Daki!Reader after she had just been beheaded by miles?

I honestly love this AU so much also a lot of this is based off the gif you sent ne

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship, abusive relationship, abusive behavior, MIGUEL IS GOING TO FUCKING MURDER MILES!, Miguel is much softer and kinder to Daki!Reader, He puts her head back on because he’s a good big brother(that’s fucking obsessed and insane), Lyla is also worrying over her BFF, using demon slayer gif because it makes more sense ig, this turned out to be like really fluffy somehow, tell me if I need to add anything

Summary:Thick as thieves is what people said you two were as your bound with Miguel was something no one could make. He’ll always be your big brother no matter what form you are, he’ll always be your helping and caring big brother :)

Miguel was beside you as you cried since you head was cut off. “There there…can’t you put your own head back on? You never were the sharpest tool in the shed” Miguel was actually worried but he didn’t want anyone to know as he reattached your head to your neck. You were crying still as this is the first time your head has even been cut off but also you had a wound that made one of your eyes wide open. “Shhh, it’s okay tu hermano está aquí(Your brother is here[I believe if not correct me please in a kind way])”

Miguel ran his thumb over your which healed as he ran his thumb against it. Soon it was gone but you still were crying so he held you. “Lyla…make sure Miles doesn’t get to far…” Lyla nodded as she started to hate the boy more with how he harmed you. “T-thank you mig…” “it wasn’t a problem..I’m your brother” he rubbed your back as that helped soothed you. Miguel was PISSED when he finds Miles he’s going to rip his head off just to show what it was like but no one will be able to help him like he had helped you, NO ONE FUCKS WITH HIS SISTER