#bill the dragonborn

[dedfly]

I accidentally started two works at once and interrupted my line of posts every day

Oops

Anyway posting my scetch to my previous artwork

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

And now for your TESblr-ing pleasure, another LDB crackship, but this time it's Galmar who gets to play "Will they, won't they?" with Leara

This did not put my bestie to sleep. But it did make her laugh, I think.

ao3 | masterlist

The peace council is over before Galmar realizes that the Dragonborn manipulated them all into nonaction without any secessions of territory or pride to the other side. If he wasn't relieved that the Stormcloaks would maintain the whole of Eastern Skyrim without sacrificing their honor to the Imperials, Galmar would feel the loss of Markarth silver more keenly.

Nothing that the war wouldn't soon win the Stormcloaks.

As the Stormcloaks prepared to leave High Hrothgar, Galmar catches sight of dark red hair disappearing through the doors to the courtyard from the corner of his eye.

"Where is she going?"

Beside him, Ulfric's mouth falls into a grim line, but if he knows, he doesn't say.

As they make their descent from the monastery, Galmar seeks Ralof. It is night on the Seven Thousand Steps: Despite the cold and blistering winds, they keep watch. The Imperials are only a few hundred yards further along the path. Too close for Galmar or Ulfric's comfort. Ralof is by the fire when Galmar settles beside him. The younger Nord's gaze is distant, but at the general's approach, he seems to come to himself.

"Couldn't sleep, General?" "With those Imperial dogs within an arrow's shot? Bah."

Ralof nods. They are silent for several moments, then Galmar speaks.

"What can you tell me about the Dragonborn?"

Ralof looks at him properly for the first time, eyes present and smoking under the firelight.

"What did you want to know, General?"

What didn't he want to know? The woman was a puzzle, maneuvering through politics in such a way that nothing changed except her own position. She was a ghost, a wisp.

"She was at Helgen. Your report on the incident said she left with you and stayed with your sister before heading to Whiterun." "If you're wondering why she was at Helgen, she was coming from Cyrodiil." "Why?"

Ralof shrugs.

"Never came up."

Then Ralof's eyes cut across the small encampment to the tent where Galmar knows Ulfric lay wide awake.

"Seemed nervous around Jarl Ulfric, though."

That the Dragonborn was nervous around Ulfric was not something Galmar picked up, and now he chastises himself for it. But now that he thinks back on it, the Dragonborn, tall in her own right despite her delicate frame, seemed to withdraw under Ulfric's gaze. Galmar's mind spun through many possible explanations, but he could rationalize none of them. Her pure stance of neutrality and the rumors of her service to the people of Skyrim couldn't rationalize with the cosmopolitan Half-elf who was seemingly afraid of Ulfric Stormcloak.

Galmar, never one to back down from a challenge, asks Ulfric what the Hell he did to the Dragonborn. He waits only for them to return to Windhelm and the privacy of the war room.

"What?" "Don't tell me you didn't notice the girl wouldn't look you in the eye." ". . .and so I must have done something to her?" "She has some kind of problem with you."

Ulfric grimaces.

"Galmar, if you were any one else, I'd clap you in irons for such an accusation." "If I were anyone else, I'd have actually accused you of something instead of asking."

The thing is, Ulfric doesn't know. The few times he's met the Dragonborn, she's shied away from him. This doesn't help Galmar.

What made someone so sacrificial so skittish?

When news comes that the World-Eater has been defeated and the Dragonborn is once again wandering through Skyrim, helping the needy on both sides of the war, this question burrows deeper into Galmar. He doesn't understand her.

When he voices his wonderment to Yrsarald, the other general just scoffs with a shake of his head.

"You'll want to keep an eye on her. I don't trust her." "Hmm."

The thing was, even if the Dragonborn didn't seem to trust Ulfric or the Stormcloacks or, perhaps, anyone, Galmar found himself trusting her. Her every play seemed to be for the betterment of Skyrim and her people. Yrsarald's musings that she was a Thalmor plant didn't sit right with Galmar. Even if that explained her neutrality at High Hrothgar and her aversion to Ulfric, the Dragonborn was too giving to be under the thumb of the Dominion.

At least, Galmar didn't think she was.

Then she sweeps into Windhelm like a spring wind, still cold from the death of winter but breathing new life in her wake.

Galmar is in Candlehearth Hall when the Dragonborn appears at the end of the bar, wearing a blue dress not dissimilar to the one she wore during the peace council. She offers him a smile.

"I don't think we were formally introduced: Leara Ormand."

Galmar gives her a nod, greeting her as he takes in the wide eyes and curling red hair. All the power of a dragon inside such a frail woman. But she defeated Alduin.

What was she afraid of?

Galmar is aware of Leara in the peripheral as she inserts herself into the investigations concerning the recent string of murders in the city. Ulfric is distracted by the war effort and the guards are spread thin as it is. Yrsarald advises they keep an eye on her, and Galmar agrees, though he thinks it is for a different reason than Thrice-Pierced. Yrsarald is thinking of the safety of WIndhelm and her Jarl. Galmar, Housecarl though he was, was thinking of the fear and frailty that seemed to shroud Leara.

This point is driven home when Leara catches the Butcher and recieves a knife wound in thanks.

Galmar visits her at Candlehearth, finding her reclined in a chair by the fireside. A plate with a half-eaten apple tart sits on the table nearby, but she's more engrossed in the cup of tea he helps her pour.

"I'm all right, General, though I thank you for your concern." "Thank me by not dying while in Windhelm. The Imperials will start pointing fingers."

Leara laughs, and Galmar finds himself chuckling with her.

After that, Galmar finds himself visiting Leara as she recovers. It isn't as if he didn't already leave to go to the bar, but now that dropping in on Leara is a part of that routine, Galmar becomes hyperaware of Ulfric and Yrsarald watching him. One night, over a week after Galmar first visited Leara, he turns to Ulfric.

"You could come with me."

It wasn't as if Ulfric never came with him to the bar. Maybe some housecarls got ornery about their Jarls visiting the local taverns, but Galmar never saw the harm in it. Actually, it was good for morale for the people to see the Jarl out amung them.

Ulfric frowns, his hand on his beard.

"I don't want to impose on the Dragonborn. She won't want to see me."

Galmar scoffs.

"Just say hello to her and then find us a table. That's hardly bothering her."

Galmar almost regrets asking Ulfric to come when Leara's eyes find the Jarl across the room and instantly widen into saucers. The fork in her hand, speared with apple tart, quivers before she sets it back on the plate.

(Why did she always have sweets when he came to visit? From what Galmar had seen, she never seemed particularly interested in them.)

Leara makes to stand, but Ulfric holds up a hand.

"Jarl Ulfric!" "Good evening, Miss Ormand. I want to thank you for the services you've rendered my people. Galmar has told me how you're recovering." "Oh, it was my pleasure. I, I'm just glad to have prevented any more deaths."

Ulfric offers Leara a soft smile. Galmar blinks as a rosy hue stains Leara's ears.

Ulfric does not leave to find a table. Leara invites them to sit with her. By the end of the evening, Galmar is reassessing everything he thought he knew about Leara's perception of Ulfric. There was a certain wariness in her shoulders when the Jarl was around, but she appeared somehow softer as she spoke to him.

Something twisted in Galmar's stomach.

Less than two weeks later, Leara is gone.

"Not for long, I think I'd like to come back."

But when Leara smiles at him. Galmar can't help but remember the smiles she gave Ulfric. No, she wasn't afraid.

She's . . . Galmar couldn't acknowledge it.

Not yet.

Galmar can't devote all his time to the Dragonborn, however. There's still a war on, and dragons about, though they seemed less troublesome since Leara defeated the World-Eater. It was wishful thinking that she would bring that same canny peace to the war that she did to the dragons. But Galmar could dream.

And he did, often. Out in the camps, strategizing with the commanders and coordinating movements, Galmar found himself pinpointing missions that the Dragonborn would excell at. He could almost see her flitting through the camp, a Stormcloak blue cloak with the bear insignia thrown over her silver armor.

Damn it, Galmar missed the elf.

He could see Yrsarald shaking his head.

Fort Snowhawk is a strategic position in Hjaalmarch. Seizing it would give them a launching point to take Morthal and seize the hold, bringing them right to Solitude's doorstep. But the winter is settling in and with it, storms.

Galmar is tired of the cold.

"General, someone to see you." "Who is it?" "Says she's the Dragonborn."

Galmar nearly knocks his half empty bottle of ale off the table in his haste.

There she was, a brown hood barely containing the riot of dark hair.

"If you're here to help, then it's about damn time."

She laughs. Galmar missed her laugh.

"I'm afraid this isn't that kind of call, General Stone-Fist."

Then Leara hands him an old leather wrapped scroll. Galmar stands at it.

"Forgive my ignorance, but I believe this is something you're looking for."

Galmar's mouth is dry as he unravels the scroll. And there it is. The map to the Jagged Crown.

"I knew those pointy ears of yours were good for something." "Listening is one of my special talents."

Leara's smile is coy. Galmar wants to ask her about her other talents, but this wasn't the time (if the time ever even came).

"Has Jarl Ulfric seen this?" "No? He wasn't the one searching for it." "He'll need to be told." "Surprise him."

Leara's smile widens a fraction. Galmar swallows.

Leara is there at Korvanjund when they retrieve the Jagged Crown. Galmar can't say he's not glad she's there: She always seems one step ahead of the Imperials, bandits, and draugr that dog their path. But by Talos, until she joins the Stormcloaks formally, she's a liability.

Just as quickly as Galmar recalls her blush and downcast eyes when meeting Ulfric in Candlehearth, he recalls her iron hand at the negotiation table that held both sides in check. Trusting her was easy when she didn't insert herself in the middle of Stormcloak special operations, moving through them like a needle through thread.

. . . even if Leara was uncannily helpful.

"I hear Leara has been instrumental in a few of your recent ventures." "It would seem so."

Ulfric's jovial tone does nothing to raise Galmar's spirits.

Why won't she commit?"

"You seem troubled." "The Dragonborn troubles me." "She didn't before. What's changed?" "Does it not bother you that she hasn't sworn loyalty to the cause?"

Ulfric's face falls into thought.

"She won't betray me." "That's not my concern."

Surprise colors Ulfric's face.

"Then what are you worried about?"

Galmar shakes his head. But in his gut, he somehow knows that an oath of fealty isn't needed to bind Leara and Ulfric together. That more than anything ticked at him. She wouldn't betray the Stormcloaks—Ulfric—to the Empire or the Dominion. Galmar knew that all too well.

Leara's aquisition of Hjerim only strengthens his certainty.

"Do you want to come over for dinner?"

Galmar stares at her.

Leara is in another blue dress, this one a cool blue like frost. A basket of produce is hooked at her elbow.

"Galmar, would you like to have dinner tonight?" "That depends, can you cook?" "Yes, and I can bake too!"

The smile and laughter together. Golden blue and morning birds. She reminded him of Cyrodiil, or at least the parts he'd seen that weren't burned in battle.

He watches her stroll away through the market before realizing he never asked who else would be at Hjerim that evening. Well, he knows for sure at least one person . . .

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Clenching his jaw, Galmar crosses his arms.

"You mean she didn't invite you to dinner?"

Ulfric shrugs, clearly just as baffled.

Women. Who could understand them?

When he shows up at Hjerim, there is literally no one else there. Except Leara, of course. And her housecarl from Whiterun. But the dark-haired woman just smirks at him before disappearing upstairs with a bottle of ale and a tray of shortbread.

What was going on?

"Won't you sit down?"

Galmar sits down. Leara wasn't kidding before when she said she could cook: There is a lamb roast, potatoes and carrots, hot bread, butter, several sliced cheeses, and braised cabbage. In her hands, Leara cradles a Breton vintage he can't place.

"There's a custard in the kitchen. I couldn't get any lemons, so I bought some snowberry jam and swirled it in."

His throat dry, Galmar can only nod. There is an honest, earnest light in Leara's eyes that he can't quite face.

He would.

"Jarl Ulfric doesn't like snowberry jam." "And? What does he have to do with our dinner?" "It's something to keep in mind before you serve him the real meal." "The real meal? What are you talking about?" "This is a practice dinner before you ask Jarl Ulfric to come here."

The yellow-white bottle makes a soft thud as Leara deposites it on the table. Her eyes fix on Galmar, her mouth pops open.

"Is that . . . are you serious? No, of course you are!"

Ah. She was upset. Before Galmar can puzzle out how he's upset her, Leara sinks into a chair, her head in her hands. Galmar braces himself for either crying or some other hysterics, but no, Leara only sighs. Sitting beside her, Galmar clears his throat.

"Look, you don't get where I am in life without being able to admit you're wrong. This isn't some test run for a fancy meal for Ulfric, is it?" "Not at all."

She props her chin on the heel of her palm, a vaguely amused quirk to her otherwise tired mouth.

"It's for you." "I see that now, Ormand." "Do you?"

Then Leara is facing him, a hard set to her pale gold face. She looks far too Altmer in that moment, and Galmar only just refrains from shifting in agitation from the abrasive moonstone in her gaze.

"It was all for you."

This admission is so sudden, Galmar can't hold back the stunned,

"What?"

that escapes him.

Nodding, Leara squares her shoulders.

"The Jagged Crown? The field work? The brawl in Dawnstar—" "The what." "Oh, never mind that! Don't get distracted!" "You got into a brawl—" "For you!" "Why would you do something so stupid?!"

Reflectively, other women might have slapped him or screamed at him. If he were very lucky, they might only vocalize wordless frustration and then storm off.

Leara is not other women.

A slender hand reaches up and pats Galmar's cheek, before settling to rest on his jaw. Galmar's insides churn, heating. Leara's smile is accommodating and amused.

Oh.

Then she pinches his sideburns, not quite gently.

"You drove me to foolishness."

Then Leara is kissing him, and Galmar is very glad that this is not a practice dinner for Ulfric because after this, he isn't letting Leara run off to another man, even if that man is his Jarl and oldest friend. And then all thoughts of Ulfric and of Leara and Ulfric together disappear. Everything is Leara, her warmth contrasting the taste of frost and winter on her tongue.

He pulls her into his lap so he can wrap his arms around her. Blue skirts fall like glacial water over his knees as Leara presses into him, her arms winding around his neck.

The bear helm hits the floor.

Galmar growls and stands, arms full of Dragonborn. He trails kisses down her jaw, hoisting her up to better access her neck.

"Galmar . . . dinner . . ." "We'll have dinner, don't worry."

And they do. And then they have the lamb for dessert. If it's a bit cold, Galmar doesn't complain. He's warm enough, laying on the hearth rug with Leara. Tomorrow, he would feel it in his back, but tonight, he was quite content where he was.

However, when Leara rouses him at half past three to come to eat custard with her in her bed, Galmar doesn't regret following her somewhere more comfortable

The next day, when Ulfric discovers just what dinner with Leara had led to, Galmar can only laugh at his friend's slackjawed face. Later when he tells Leara about it (mercifully nested in her bed), she finds it as funny as Galmar did.

There's still a war going on and dragons are still terrorizing innocent farmers and travellers. Talos help him, but he's got to get Ulfric through the Moot and on the throne without any idiotic heroics or ill-begotten assassination attempts. It's all a bit daunting, but Leara's there, and if there's one thing Galmar knows, it's that he can trust her to be there when he needs her. And she'll be there, iron fist and all.

fin

[xiphosuras]

Icons for the d&d characters I’ve played + one backup character :)

Been a while since I drew some of them.

[elandrawssometimes]

Crew of the Mighty Tart - Player Characters

[gaypinebabe]

Hi everyone please look at my and my best friends dnd characters flirting fighting

I hate doing art but I love them

[mages-pandoras-box]

Tag dump

[recycledraccoon]

Minor thoughts on Oisin and how he seems primed to fuck over Adaine specifically. The flustered ping-pong balls that were a plan all along. The quoting her own words on the previous Elven Oracle back at her in regards to the storm.

I mean...imagine you're a skinny little dragonborn wizard, in a class with a cute elven girl. You don't talk to her, but one of your adventuring party members is pissing thinking that party is getting preferential treatment, so you KNOW about her. You watch from the corner of your eye or from a spot on the back of the class whenever she's actually there. Partway through the year she goes to jail, and when she comes back she and her adventuring party save the world from a dragon. (A dragon of whom your Grandmother had been fond. ((Also, coincidentally, the Vice Principal.))) One of them created a god.

(Your entire party is being groomed into rage by two of your teachers.)

You're in her class again. She is the Elven Oracle, already an accomplished adventurer. She and her friends are popular. She's very pretty. She does not know your name. She does not know who you are, just a skinny dragonborn a few seats back.

You go on your Sophomores Year Spring Break Adventure and don't bother to think about her party at all.

(You and your party are going to kill a god. Your teacher is going to ascend to godhood in their place and you and your party will have Made That Happen. You are angry and determined with each final blow you deal.)

You return from Spring Break angry and with a sore chest.

You find out the elven girl's party has resurrected a dead god and the live streamed the entire fight. They must think they're so much better than you and your party. You'll show them.

(Your friend refuses to change her faith. She cancels the paperwork. The rest of you kill her, confident she will make the right choice and join you again as a proper Champion for your new god. You help kill her. She does not get back up. You hide the body and none of you can say anything. You're so so angry.)

The world descended into darkness and you can do nothing. The sun finally breaks across the sky again right before Junior year. You and your party have made plans and are on the cusp of greatness. You've gained muscles to spare and ink on your scales in carefully selected runes, no longer just a skinny little dragonborn.

(You have a new cleric. He's not your friend. He's a haystack hick from that cult-church from Freshman year, and he's here because the god you're going to kill needs a Champion and he fits the bill, nothing more.)

The first day of school the plan starts to be put in motion. Immediately that party of kids is interfering, in your way. It rackles. You push on anyway, seething inside even as you act the part of being reasonable.

You go to a party at the houses of one of her friends. You've been practicing making spell runes on the inside of ping-pong balls. You're ready.

The pretty Elven girl in your class finally looks at you. She approaches you, gives you a drink, and chills it in your hand. She has to ask your name. You have shared certain wizarding classes with her since Freshman year, tho she was barely there. You have to tell her that.

You chat. She clearly gets flustered, calls you great, and flees back into the house. Your friend teases you for others to overhear. It's a convenient excuse to use your geometry and apply physics to miss every single shot and lay your trap. The drink isn't so perfectly chilled in your hand anymore.

(You talk to her. Play nice. She isn't smooth, but she smiled at you and maybe a part of you is vindictive in seeing her flustered. It's a shame she turned down the diamonds, as dragon madness would have been so poetic. You steal her summons to steal something from the house. She didn't know your name. Didn't remember you. You feel justified. Your anger burns cold like frostbite, like static in the air. You purposely don't wonder if that first miss was intentional or genuine.)

You see each other in class sometimes.

You plot and kill monsters the woods. You will win the battle. You will win the war.

Your parties have a standoff in the cafeteria. You play your part to diffuse the situation, your teacher has been harping on your friends to stop antagonizing the other party. You feel her mind touch yours gentle probing of intentions, her friends all around her as you lock eyes.

(The devil's honey your group gets from that bee girl all goes to your teacher. He is preparing himself to ascend to godhood, and he needs it for his prayers.)

She is searching for your intentions and feelings. You tell her only 'Sorry'. She believes you. You are not entirely sure why. She and her party will hopefully die during their Last Stand exam, and have no way to revive themselves in time, be trapped there until after elections.

Maybe she just wasn't perceptive enough to see the deception.

(You hate her and all her friends. You have had no devil's honey. She believes you. Briefly, you wonder if it was a lie at all.)

They catch you. They know. Your team goes to ground and waits out the remaining days 'til elections and the culmination of everything you've been working for.

It rains at the party, and you have no more masks. You are angry. She must never have been that good of an Oracle at all, and you take joy in mocking her with her own words from long ago.

She's nothing more than an elven girl in your class who was full of herself to remember your name.

(There is nothing left now to stop you from being as openly angry as you like.)

[heph]

[CM] Dragonborn

CM for @toastergoblins ! Thank you for paying my bills <3

Commission me here!

[abardnamedreginald]

im a wolf-demon-salamander-grey treefrog-katydid-cricket-luna moth-klingon-trad vampire-cat-romulan-harry potter wizard-gnome-drow-orc-wood elf-high elf-werewolf-twilight vampire-chihuahua-android-bard-druid-sorcerer-d&d wizard-lotr wizard-mind flayer-kraken-owlbear-genetically modified human-andes mint-harry potter merperson-h20 mermaid-great white shark-raven named nevermore-amontillado-sewer clown-animatronic-ink person-reality bender-ringwraith-chicken-fairy-telescreen-multibear-manic pixie dream girl-d class-horcrux-dragon-unicorn-pegasus-among us crewmate-among us imposter-game master-sharpie king size marker-dwarf-dragonborn-toothbrush-rock-paper-scissors-lizard-vulcan-politician-god-phone guy-icebreakers ice cubes pineapple-a doctor not a miracle worker-troll-ent-poodle-rabbit-Bear.-orange zombie-purple zombie-green zombie-professor plum-col. mustard-in the library-with a knife-hoola dancer-fish-villager-pelecan-defense against the dark arts professer-mafia boss-peep rabbit-peep chicken-gymnast-hairbrush-philosopher-music freak-school teacher-kidnapper-police lieutenant-farmer-trash can-dumpster out back-turtle-tribble-my little pony-kratt brother-high diver-pearl diver, dive, dive, deeper-chef-fire-earth-water-wind-wasp-bee-hornet-yellowjacket-mud dabber-grasshopper-rattlesnake-armadillo-cowboy-flashlight-starfleet science officer-harlet-elephant-gater-muppet-emo-goth-preppy-teabag-loser-sucker-mouse-rat-a puppet-a pauper-a pirate-a poet-a pawn-and a king-father albert-the pope-a nun-pastor jeff-gambler-metalhead-death rocker-the grim reaper-angel-lighthouse-paw patrol dog-hobbit-starfish-sponge-crab-squid-shrimp-jellyfish-chipmunk-hammerhead shark-nurse shark-humpback whale-blue whale-orca-sexual harrassment panda-south park character-jakoffasaurus-scrabble board-ouija board-pillow-toilet paper-period pad-tampon-baby diaper-elderly diaper-martian-touch tone telephone-starfleet operations-starfleet command-kirk-spock-bones-sulu-chekov-uhura-scotty-yeoman rand-KHAN!!!-mudd-the uss enterprise-the uss reliant-botany bay-v'ger-valeris-saavik-sybok-surak-sarek-the abbreviation 'idk'-sheldon-leonard-penny-howard-raj-amy-bernadette-mary cooper-george sr-george jr-missy cooper-meemaw-tam-dr sturgis-dr linkletter-dr jack bright-dr clef-dr gears-dr kondraki-dr mann-dr iceberg-dr crow-dr rights-dr sherman-scp 049-scp 3008-scp 4231-scp 166-scp 682-scp 2521-scp 590-O5 6-bill cipher-stanley pines-stanford pines-dipper-mabel-wendy-soos-schmebulok-gideon-mcgucket-dipper goes to taco bell-sheriff blubs-deputy durland-tad strange-andy taylor-william afton-michael afton-elizabeth afton-crying child-henry emily-charlotte emily-dave miller-jack kennedy-dee kennedy-peter kennedy-steven stevenson-aragorn-sam-frodo-merry-pippin-boromir-legolas-gimli-gandalf-faramir-denethor-sauron-elrond-thranduil-harry-hermione-ron-voldemort-pettigrew.-moony-padfoot-prongs-snape-edward-bella-alice!!-carlisle-charlie-cthulhu-greg heffley-pennywise-bendy-sammy-norman-jack-alice (susie)-allison-henry stien-joey drew-bruenor battlehammer-raskolnikov-heather-heather-heather-veronica-jd-kurt-ram-martha-kurt cobain-david bowie-freddie mercury-hozier-mitski-lemon demon-jack stauber-tally hall-hamilton-burr-jefferson-madison-washington-phillip-angelica-eliza-peggy-king george iii-king henry viii-ben franklin-catherine of aragon-anne boleyn-jane seymour-anne of cleves-katherine howard-catherine parr-dracula-𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂-evan hansen-conner murphey-john adams-raymond barron-fred randall-jane doe-ocean-noel-mischa-constance-ricky-karnak-vergil-alternate-thatcher davis-ruth-dave-cesar-mark-adam-sarah-jonah-evelyn-gabriel-trump-biden-sunny-basil-kel-aubrey-hero-mari-vanessa (the mean girl that kinda likes u)-tux the linux penguin-perry the platypus hybrid princess...dont fw me

[pencerism]

sir william!!!!!! and spencer i guess

i usually use dragonborns in dnd, specifically black ones, so i made spencer's dnd character a black dragonborn

i didnt wanna draw him as an actual dragon so i made him a cute half dragonborn-human monstrosity that bill can't deny (especially with the tail wraps)

i just think theyre neat

also i made this but i did the perspective wrong so i couldnt like edit him into the pic i wanted to put him in without it looking off,,

[dracobrooklyn]

Hello! Can i ask for domestic hcs/scenarios with reader/tav and a durge who resisted the urge after the events of the game??

// djshfslkjdhfl aright listen you touched my lil heart <3 || MDNI 18+ ||

Tav!Reader x Durge domestic headcannons

Durge has finally been free from his Dark Urge, he was no longer feeling the need to kill. He is finally can breath and be his own Dragon. Durge can finally be happy with you! That's the most important thing. Depending on where you guys start to live, in Baldurs Gate or in the woods in a cottage away from the city. Living in Baldurs Gate: -Durge would get a job as being maybe a adventurer, or perhaps works with the council of Baldurs Gate. But he be working in a high working pay so he be able to pay bills and get something for comfortable living.

-Durge has his own liabrary so he can do his own magic research. Or even something he curl up in bed with you while you rest with his arm wrapped around you while you are leaned against him. He could be reading something with magic, or perhaps the history of Baldurs Gate.... or a erotica *cough* -Durge would love to go out in the city to go shopping for dinner with you, both talking what they would be in the mood to have, and Durge was buy a small gift for you to give to his little itov later. Maybe it's jewelry, a new dress, or maybe another book you wanted.

-You take Durge out to festivals and do parties to go out and socialize and maybe make new friends. Hopefully Dragonborn friends.

-if kids are in the picture, they are going to have the best education, and he will make sure they are loved, at first he was nervous to have children thinking he be a awful father. But he changed... and saw a new light and was ready to be the best father figure. _____ Living in the Woods: -Durge is very much a city boy, but if you want to live in a cottage, he will! Living off the earth and work a little more to make dinner, that's fine. But being with you is the most important thing. -Well there is one thing that's a pro on this is that there is peace and quiet and there is no neighbors being nosey in your home so... he can be as loud as he wants while drilling in you with pleasure *cough* -Durge defintly learns how to garden with you, and he don't mind it... though he does get his hands all dirty and the dirt is in his claws, it's annoying. But he loves to bathe near the hotsprings of your cottage. And it's even better when you are with him bathing.

-Durge starts making his own things, a table, a chair, and sometimes yes Halsin has got him into widdleling. Durge started doing bigger wood sculptors and give them to you as gifts. -Durge def homeschool his kids, he will be the magic teacher and history teacher. Hiking trips with the lil wee ones, and also teach them to garden, and play with them alot! He not working as much since everything in the forest is given to him.

[ghulah]

The Papas, DND and VTM

As some of you know, I am an avid TTRPG liker, watcher, player, etc. The idea of the Papas (and the Ghouls) playing a campaign has always been very fun to me, so I consulted with the council (my wives @bonesy-doodles and @parabunny).

And so, I present to you, the Papas and their set ups for Dungeons and Dragons and Vampire: the Masquerade!

Primo

So, Primo is overall very much the traditional Dracula of the bunch. He's all dark and mysterious and probably actually evil (by some metric), despite the garden tending and the (poisonous) plants he takes care of. He for sure is a roleplay guy but will kick ass in combat.

In DND, he would definitely attempt to play a Dhampir Warlock or Artificer. Artificer especially would allow for alchemy and a lot more fucking around with spellcasting - therefore making it both challenging and engaging and for Primo to pull some insane shit during session. He could also just multiclass Warlock/Artificer, definitely pact of Fiend, Undead, or the Great Old One. The Dhampirism is for vibes, okay. It just fits.

As for VTM, he would be Malkavian or Nosferatu, but the oracle aspect of Malkavian makes it all the more ominous. There is also Hecata and Tzimisce! Either way, he's one of the more ancient, traditional vampires. Primo would play VTM and say, "I am Cain." (bones said this) Much to the chagrin of the Master of Ceremonies.

Primo is also a dice hoarder, he has so many sets and he has a specialized dice bag for it too. It's embroidered.

Secondo

Secondo is very - how you say - wild? He would bring chaos to the table I fear, but he does it in character rather than like being a frustrating player. While he does read the rules well, he does it to get around them I feel.

In DND, he'd play a fighter class, probably just straight up Fighter or Barbarian. And he'd play bigger species like Dragonborn and Orcs! So basically the tank and also main hitter. But for a little bit of religious aspects, an Oathbreaker Paladin would be perfect for him. It has those angsty, turned back on my god vibes as well as the tankiness of melee classes. a Barbarian Paladin multiclass would hit hard methinks.

VTM wise, he'd definitely be Ravnos. I considered Toreador and Gangrel, but I think Ravnos fits the best. He loves (un)living on the edge and rather than the high art vibes that Toreador embody, it's a lot more, well, wild! And also cool. Very rogue-ish and plays by his own rules.

I think he likes fun dice that are like, metal specifically. Some of them are more dark, gothic designs and then some of them are just super fun.

Terzo

Alright, this guy for sure is a roleplay-heavy player. Yeah combat is fun and all but only to get shit done. He loves taking his time curating his character's aesthetics and their motivations and all. He will stick to the bit, do not try him.

That being said, of course he's playing a Bard in DND. He would play either a Tiefling or something of the Elf variety. College of Eloquence would be what I'd assign to him. The bardiest bard to bard, you know? However!! He could also play a Warforged, specifically one with Art Deco elements and that could also reference Frankenstein. It always comes back to Frankenstein with him.

To riff off of the artistry of bards - Terzo would be a Toreador. They're known for being artisans. They're beautiful and charming, seductive...all of which fits the bill for the type of character Terzo likes to play. On the other hand, he could very well play a Brujah. They're known as rebels, warrior-scholars. Terzo would play a vampire that's very Vampire Chronicle-esque.

He's also pretty superstitious about his dice, like if one of them rolls badly he will retire it.

Copia

I think Copia also enjoys the roleplay aspect of TTRPG's a little more than the combat but he gets super giddy whenever he hits a critical hit or takes someone down.

For DND, he would play a Tiefling Cleric. He's got that vibe that he enjoys both the aesthetics and the idea of Tieflings conceptually! Personally I think he always has a Tiefling PC on hand at all times, like it's just his thing. Other than Cleric, he might also take Druid for Wildshape, so he could turn into a little rat. Otherwise, he might also enjoy Sorcerer (magic nepotism /hj). Who has time to learn spells? Not him!

VTM though, it'd be funny if he played a Lasombra. Definitely hilarious considering their whole social-climbing thing and the administrative aspect! Tangentially, the Ministry Clan would also be kinda ironic. I just think he plays that sort of vampire that is less Ancient but more like What We Do In The Shadows vampire.

He likes having dice for each of his characters, he might reuse some, but he prefers having one set for one PC.

Extra

They all play an Oops! All Tiefling Bard Game, at some point. It is so stupidly fun.

There have been fights over in-game choices. Many of them. It's okay, they get through it.

The Ghouls do play as well! I have not figured out their own preferences yet, but trust, they get to have their TTRPG time.

OC tidbits

My OC, Sibling Nephtys would run games like Monsterhearts (college ver) and Monster of the Week.

Bones's OC, Sibling Rigorian, would run Dungeons and Dragons.

Para's OC, Bunny, would run Vampire: The Masquerade.

[kate-les-bridge-stewart]

So ive been obsessed with a skyrim dw crossover for a while and i made some concept art for it that i forgot to post

So timelords in this are actually dragons. In order from top to bottom theyre 12, 13, missy, dhawan master, and river.

Also clara and bill are dragonborn

Clara is a wood elf archer and bill is a redguard mage

Ive also given the doctor and master their own dragon names

The doctor is named Lokrutiid (lohk-roo-teed). The words of power i used were Lok (sky), Ru (run), and Tiid (time).

The master is named Althurtiid (Ahl-thoor-teed). The words of power are Al (destruction), Thur (master, overlord, tyrant), and Tiid (time).

I added lore that Akatosh, divine creator of the dragons, created Althurtiid and Lokrutiid as guardians of time as well as gifting them with direct control over time and the ability to manipulate it to their desire. This means they are able to clone past versions of themselves (because like timelords, dragons are immortal and able to come back from the dead).

Ive got a lot more lore than that but yeah thats what ive been up to.

[deconstructthesoup]

Screw it, I take orders from no one, here are my gods:

Eo (he/him), god of the sun, hope, selflesness, happiness, and folks on the aro and ace spectrum. Patron deity of humans, halflings, and celestials. Very much based on Kingston Brown from The Unsleeping City. Represents the Light and Peace domains.

Halite (she/her), goddess of creation, of the elements, of inspiration, and of mending. Patron deity of dwarves, giantkin, and elementals. Basically that one shop teacher who always has something great to say about whatever you've made. Represents the Forge and Life domains.

Morrigan (she/they), goddess of the harvest, of rebirth, of beginnings and endings, and cycles of change. Patron deity of all creatures with fey ancestry. Very much has the same vibes as the Shifting Mound from Slay the Princess. Represents the Grave and Nature domains.

Peregrine (he/him), god of justice, truth, balance, and discovery. Patron deity of all birdfolk and reptillian-folk, dragonborn included. Vaguely inspired by the Sixth House from The Locked Tomb. Represents the Knowledge and Order domains.

Rowena (she/her), goddess of the moon, witchcraft, secrets, and roads untraveled. Patron deity of all beastfolk, though she has her fair share of more humanoid worshipers, too. Basically what you'd get if you mixed Kalina and Cassandra from Fantasy High together. Represents the Arcana and Twilight domains.

Sunder (he/him), god of rebellion, storms, the sea, and pure chaos. Patron deity of all creatures who live near or in the ocean---which includes orcs in this setting (they're either seafaring explorers or pirates, depending on who you ask). Massive Bill Seacaster vibes, really. Represents the Tempest and War domains.

And finally, Stryx (they/them), deity of the afterlife, deceit, riches, and luck. Patron deity of subterranian folk, infernals, and pretty much every outcast out there. Very much a make-a-deal-with-death, gamble-your-soul-back kind of entity. Represents the Death and Trickery domains.

[spicy-lemnade]

Casavir Headcanon in the nutshell

(Low res pic, I just want small pic, okay?)

How everyone headcanon (or written) him:

"My lady." guy

a sorely gentleman (stereotype)

"My lady"

white knight (stereotype)

"m'lady"🥺

dragonborn must be his true love or something like that

"I must maintain my vow😞, though I regret taking it"😢😩

Is actually (secretly) horny. uwu

"My lady?"

also deep bass boosted voice

By "taking a vow" very seriously, it means include he should care about his "celibacy"? Just because he's very religious guy??

cares about your boundaries (positive, actually)

my lady....

Praying the divines / Tyr all day

NO SWEARING IN MY TEMPLE OF THE DIVINES😡

"BISHOP!😨😡 WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?🤬😤🔪🩸🩸"

"M'lady."

traits? what positive traits? (it's nothing of a value, according to them)

Also Casavir: "met many a fine lass on his travels, but none were sufficiently enticing to churn his core" (literally overused sentences in every fanfics they've written in every fandom)

Here's some verbatim for you all to understand: "he met many pretty women, but none of them are pleasurable enough for him like how dragonborn do." (not), it's very lazy writing.

my lady

my lady

m'lday

malady

m'lady

How I headcanon him:

"It's been 18 years, Bishop. You haven't pay for your crime...and your bills, you've been wasting their ale back from Neverwinter."

old ass

soft ass

sassy ass

goth ass BITCHES

was tired of Bishop's bullshit, but well.. not anymore...

"Knows what he was doing"

but if you ask, he ain't subtle. Well sometimes subtle about it, he'll speak like riddles, just like how you met one of the Stormcock soldier in Sovngarde

remind practical and observant...like how he observed Bishop's behavior and tendencies

Your tired granddad(dy) (ignore this)

is actually introvert nerd

"My lady, I guess..."

"Or my sire, perhaps?"

prefer not to label himself and you do as well respect that

definitely into deathcore

Unironically listening to "I am... All of Me." by Crush 40 from Shadow the Hedgehog ("Hey isn't this for-" SHUT THE FUCK UP)

sure, he doesn't like swearing but he will do it if he feels like it. He's not gonna freak out about it if he hears someone swearing, don't push your luck

he kinda looks like: "Cry all you want while I, as the new gen once called "the Chad", stay stoic as the paladin should do", when he doesn't make any expression that much (he will not say that tho)

His rivalry with Bishop is just as old and boring as your favorite game. Give him a fucking break, he just wants to move on ffs. I don't care about the canon, it's just a fucking game.

He's all in forgiveness, but "never forget for what they've done and hurt you"

He realized he doesn't know who they were fighting over, amnesia perhaps? Or just plain memory loss since he could recall it sometimes but he doesn't know who that is...

has depression, OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) and terrible anxiety (or generalised anxiety disorder due to his past)

In fact, he IS The Gentleman.

I can go all I wanted to say if I ever wanted to, he deserves better.

[antisociallilbrat]

I'm seeing the new D&D movie this weekend I'm so excited so I'm going to talk about the Loser's and how'd they play D&D.

Bill- He's definitely the DM. Comes up with all these insane homebrew campaigns that drive the Losers crazy. Also he is not afraid to kill their characters, he is ruthless and his monsters are genuinely scary. The few times he's actually played he plays a fuckin human wizard (derogatory)

Richie- He plays as a human bard, is anyone surprised? He tries to fuck monsters all the time and Bill kicks the table when he rolls. Richie has been successful twice and now his character has to go on quests to pay for child support. Also he actually sings when required to.

Bev- She plays an half-orc barbarian, you go girl! She charges into battle all the time and completely wrecks shit up. Bill always targets her character first because Bev has her character stacked up and is very efficient in weapons. She is out for blood when she plays. Sometimes she forgoes the party's plan and just charges in to fight.

Stan- He plays a high elf rogue, we all know he's that bitch. He'll sneak off during battle and pull sneak attacks. The party will be about to attack and they'll be like?? Where is Stan?? But Stan has already got into position behind the monster. Also Stan character acts the shit out of the roleplaying, fight me on this

Mike- He plays a wood elf druid, of course he's the nature guy. Honestly I don't know much about druids but it screams Mike. He's more a pacifist and is constantly trying to tame the animals they come across. He's the player to ask "But is this creature really evil?" It works sometimes, he's got himself a pet owl bear. Also Mike occasionally dms but he never kills their characters.

Eddie- He plays a dragonborn paladin. He likes to act like he's not as chaotic as some of Losers like Bev when it comes to fighting but the moment a villian hits him he goes crazy and fights them with a chaotic energy only he could muster. Also he notoriously rolls horrible and he gets so MAD, they can always count on Eddie to curse up a storm in a session.

Ben- He plays a gnome fighter, he wants to be small but powerful. Poor Ben is the one who actually comes up with plans to take down monsters and bad guys, it's just that no one listens to him. He's also a charming character and constantly has to apologize to the npc on behalf of the party's behavior.