#going to post this here and on goblin and see what happens

[its-luna-noel]

your obstinate charge | astarion ancunin

Astarion has never been allowed to say 'no' before. When he does, he realizes who he wants to say 'yes' to. You realize that he could kill you here, right now, in any number of ways. He could slit your throat, drive a dagger beneath your ribs & pierce your heart, bleed you dry until you're nothing but a memory upon this land. You realize this, and yet your body relaxes in his hands. You trust him completely.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, afab reader but any pronouns, durge reader, act 2 spoilers, previous abuse, smut, oral (f! & m! receiving), blood drinking

word count: 5.3k

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hello! i wrote this last year and posted on ao3, and i wasn't going to cross post since my blog is mostly jjk, but i reread it and was really proud of it, so here it is on tumblr! ty for reading & hope you enjoy!

Everyone at camp can see that Astarion is in a foul mood.

You arrived back at Last Light after your first journey to Moonrise Towers, finally having arrived at your end goal to destroy these tadpoles, and before you could all share your discoveries with the rest of the party, Astarion strode off towards the waterline, ducking into darkness before you could grab him.

You stare after him for a moment and shake your head. Then you turn towards the fire, folding your legs under you as you ready yourself for dinner.

Gale passes you a wooden bowl of the same stew you'd been eating since arriving in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. "How did it go?" he asks.

You shake your head again, shoving food in your mouth, and lift your shoulder in a shrug. "We found Ketheric," you explain, offering the memory of your meeting to Gale through your tadpoles. He grimaces as you share the images of Ketheric pulling the axe from his chest. You withdraw your mind from his and continue to eat. "We've convinced them that we're True Souls, for now. We'll see where it takes us."

Gale begins to speak over his own meal, airing his many ideas to the party as the others gathered around the fire. But your thoughts drift, and you aren’t even lucid enough to feel guilty for ignoring him; all you can think of was how you know Ketheric was somehow involved in your previous life, that life you can't remember. Determination begins to burn deep in your chest; you must find out what this all means.

Before you can try to sort out your disordered thoughts, Karlach plops down beside you, the heat of her warming you on all sides as she digs into her stew.

"Hey," she says through a mouth full of food, "what's wrong with Fangs?"

You shrug, pulling apart your warm roll of bread. "How am I supposed to know?"

"'Cause you're all cozy with him, or whatever." She looks at you, her bright eyes keen and knowing. "Whatever happened today, you know what must be bothering him. Maybe you should go check on him."

You almost laugh. "He doesn't want to see me," you tell her.

She gives you a stern look before returning to her meal. "Just think about it, soldier," is all she says.

You all finish your meal and talk about your plan for the next day before retiring to your own tents for the night. You change out of your armor and clean it, rubbing off stubborn stains of goblin blood. You try to lose yourself to sleep, but it does not take you, with your many worries for the next day. And, even though you don't want to, you can't help but think about what Karlach said.

"Maybe you should go check on him."

So, unable to sleep, and unable to think of anything else to do, you leave your tent and make your way towards Astarion's.

You walk over, the chill of the night making you shiver. You almost hope to find the tent closed up for the night, to find him already trancing for the night, but the entrance is still tied open. You peek inside, expecting to find your companion reclined and reading a book by candle light; you try to prepare yourself for whatever sly flirtation he has for you.

Instead, you find the tent empty.

You frown; you know that Astarion hasn't been able to find suitable prey since you'd arrived in the cursed lands, so you can't imagine that he's out prowling. You stand there for a moment, at a loss and trying to decide whether or not to just go to bed. But you sigh, as whatever blackened heart inside you pushes you forward.

You, thanking your lucky stars that he wasn't trying to hide when he skulked away, follow Astarion's tracks down towards the river.

—

You find him propped up on his elbows across the river, staring out across the water. You don't bother to try and hide your footsteps; you simply cross the river, taking care not to lose your footing on the loose stones along the way.

"Come to collect your obstinate charge?" Astarion sneers without looking at you as you approach.

You sit beside him, tucking your knees against your chest. You try to keep your dirty shoes off his cloak that he spread out on the ground beneath him.

Those words are familiar enough; that dreadful Drow called him that to your face when she asked for him to bite her. "She really got to you, huh?" you ask, resting your cheek on one knee as you turn to look at him.

He's still in his armor from the day, and he'd found a bottle of wine somewhere in the crates surrounding Last Light on his journey over. It's something cheap, something you're sure he finds repulsive, even as he drinks. He stares across the river towards the inn, and he's silent for so long you resign yourself to the fact that he's ignoring you. Then, as you're deciding if you should just leave him to his thoughts, he shakes his head and says, "I can't get it out of my head. The way she leered at me."

You watch him, waiting for him to speak. He swirls the bottle of wine and takes a drink, then grimaces at the taste and lets the bottle hang loosely from his fingers. He doesn't look at you as he thinks.

Eventually, he sighs, the sound light and airy. "I was being too precious, wasn't I?" You can tell he's trying to convince himself, to talk himself back into some dark line of thinking he'd grown accustomed since being turned. "We could have used her potion. A moment of unpleasantry doesn't matter if there's a fine reward. I should have just gritted my teeth as always and let her have me for a bit."

You feel your heart sink at his words. "Astarion," you whisper, unsure of what to say next.

He barks out a laugh, a short, derisive sound. "Oh, darling, I don't need your pity." He throws the bottle of wine towards the water, and the glass shatters against the river bank. Wine starts to spill into the river, spreading like blood.

You shake your head, confused by how quickly his mood shifts. You struggle to keep up. "Astarion, I don't pity you," you tell him. You turn to face him properly, to take this conversation seriously. He still doesn't look at you. "But you have the right to say 'no.' You don't belong to anyone anymore."

At those words, he shifts his gaze from the waterline to finally examine you. His eyes are narrow, the expression behind them inscrutable. "You really believe that, don't you?" He laughs again, but he's not amused. His voice is bitter as he continues, "Yes, well, I must admit, a part of me feels sick when I think about getting on my back for breadcrumbs again." He tilts his head, suddenly curious. "But you, you could have convinced me to take the deal. To just push through and get the potion, and we would've all just moved along with our lives. Why didn't you?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Your voice is slightly incredulous. "You said 'no,' and that's your right. I'm not here to force you to do anything." You, now, laugh without mirth. You know enough about not having a say in what you do, with your strange visitors haunting your every move.

Astarion is still watching you. He has to admit to himself, he doesn't understand you one bit. No one in this life or his last ever showed him any ounce of kindness; even the gods couldn't be bothered to look his way. But here you are, some insignificant wanderer with gore for brains and a strong propensity towards gruesome violence, sitting beside him and telling him he had a choice. "But you could've," he pushes, and he suddenly reaches forward, dragging aside your neckline to reveal bruised teeth marks from where he'd last fed. You stiffen slightly, caught off guard by his quick movements. "What have I done to deserve any of your grace? I deceived you, tried to hunt you in the night, have taken everything I could from you with no promises to give any of it back."

"Astarion," you whisper, and for the first time, you think you are finally seeing him. "What makes you think you have to earn it?"

And that, finally, is what breaks him.

He rises up on his knees and takes your face in his hands, and there's a frenzy there, a desperation that makes you tense. You think he might shake you so hard your ruined brain will rattle around in your skull, and you watch the thought form behind his eyes. You realize that he could kill you here, right now, in any number of ways. He could slit your throat, drive a dagger beneath your ribs & pierce your heart, bleed you dry until you're nothing but a memory upon this land.

You realize this, and yet your body relaxes in his hands.

You trust him completely.

The look in his eyes is suddenly wild, confused, exasperated. Of all the prey he's ever hunted before, why did you have to be the one he showed the monster to? Anyone else would've run; you should've, too. Yet here you sit, on this riverbank beside him, looking into his blood-red eyes because he's led you right where he wanted you. Surely you aren't too stupid to see that.

Yet here you are, staring at him with those big, trusting eyes as he holds your life in his hands.

There must be something wrong with you, he decides then. Beyond the parasite in your head, and beyond the spells of very bloody memory loss; there is something fundamentally, elementally, seriously wrong with you. It's the only way he can explain to himself why you're still sitting here, prey in its predator's sight, unwavering & unafraid.

At that look in your eyes, that brave, corruptible expression, he leans closer. He says your name, and it's like the last prayer he'll ever speak. "Tell me what you want," he whispers, and he's almost begging.

You lean in, too, until the tip of your nose brushes the slope of his, and you breathe, "You."

And then he's kissing you, and you let out a small gasp, because you can't believe this beautiful elf has chosen you. He breathes you in, his hands still cupping your cheeks, and you thread your fingers into his silvery curls, beckoning him closer. One of his hands traces down your side, wrapping around your waist and holding you closer so you can feel the lines of him through your camp clothes. You gasp again, surprised by his unyielding grip, and his tongue slips between your parted lips, searching, exploring, tasting. You groan quietly, low in your throat, and his other hand traces from your cheek to your neck, fingers searching for the source of the sound. They find it, and they squeeze…

With his hand on your throat, feeling your pulse through the delicate skin, Astarion is nearly hypnotized.

He wishes that hunger deep in his belly would fade, would disappear and leave him to enjoy this, to lose himself in the moment like he hasn't in two hundred years. But it burns hot, and he can hear your heart beating strong in your chest, quickening as he moves against you, presses into you. It gnaws at him, spurned and getting harder to ignore, and you feel him bracing, beginning to pull away because he shouldn't do this to you— he can't—

You pull back from him, and he wonders how you could have possibly known his thoughts and braces for the impact of a stake in his heart—

Instead you tilt your chin and arch your back, and your hands in his hair lead him right to where he needs to be. His mouth brushes the pulse at your throat.

His vision flashes red; he can feel your blood thrumming against his lips, feel the seductive brush of each pulse against his mouth. He groans, and he wants to fight it, because gods he wishes things were different, but his lips part and his jaw opens, and he's biting into your throat.

A breath hisses from between your teeth at the sensation, at the ice traveling down your spine and chilling you to the bone. His mouth on you is unyielding as he cradles you in his hands, drinking you in in every way possible. Your eyes fall closed, and you begin to float, your thoughts becoming lighter than the clouds. You smile, because you can still feel him grasping at you, wanting you, needing you.

You trust him completely.

That hunger inside him pushes him to drink you dry, to tear your life from your hands until it burns in his chest instead. But he pries himself away from your throat, mouth dripping with scarlet and breath stuttering from between his lips. You can feel his chest heaving against you, can feel air fanning against your neck. You're still smiling.

"You," he gasps, easing you back down against the ground beneath you as he licks his teeth clean, "you ruin me." And then he kisses that smile on your mouth, and he's hovering over you, holding himself above you. It feels like a question.

When he pulls away, you open your eyes to see the stars painted over his shoulders. He looks predatory, like he's standing over the tattered remains of his latest hunt, but you see the softness in his expression, the vulnerability. He doesn't want to hurt you; he doesn't want this to be like all the other times, and he surely doesn't want this to be the first of its own terrible kind. He wants you, you realize. Not your blood, not your power, not your protection or your loyalty or your allegiance; he wants you.

You're ready to let him have you, if he'll take you.

"Astarion." You whisper his name, and he leans closer, his curls brushing your cheek. It tickles, and you giggle under your breath.

He tries not to stiffen at the sound. He forgets how soft you are sometimes, how gentle. It creates an air of innocence, though he watched you tear through goblins and cursed undead only hours before, and he knows without a doubt you can handle yourself. For a moment, he feels like the monster under the bed again.

But you touch his face, so very gently, and kiss him. Softly, sweetly, you call him back to you.

"I'm yours," you breathe, "if you'll have me."

And oh, it’s not even a question.

He’ll have you, he decides, pressing you back against the ground until rocks dig into your shoulders. He’ll take whatever you will give him, and when you’ve had enough, he will probably still be on his knees before you, begging for more.

Before that thought can scare him away, he trails his touch over your thin, casual clothes, grasping at the hem of your shirt. He pulls it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up. He pulls back to look at you, to admire you, but you — suddenly cold and bashful — wrap your arms over your chest.

You hide from him, and he’s suddenly confused.

He examines the nervous look in your eyes, the way you're flushed in embarrassment and trying to hide beneath him, and all the little puzzle pieces suddenly click into place. This is new to you, he realizes. Maybe not truly and entirely; maybe you were taken to bed in whatever life you had before, but you don't remember that now. For you, with your absent memories and shattered persona, this was your first time.

It's suddenly all too much for him, and he shrinks away from you, leaning back into his heels. He holds his face in his hands, and he shakes his head ever so slightly, because it's too familiar a sight, to pin down bright innocence beneath his hips and drag it into the darkness. He wants to run away, to curse you for ever asking him to come to your camp and join your little band of misfits.

For a moment, he wishes he never met you; at least he wouldn't have to question every action he takes.

You prop yourself up on your elbows as he recedes from you, and very slowly and gently take one of his hands in yours. He's shaking, just barely, but your throat seems to close with a flood of emotion.

"Astarion," you whisper, and you gently pry his hand away from his face. His eyes are shut tightly, his lips twisted in a grimace. You bring his hand towards your lips, and you leave a kiss on his palm, feather light. "Astarion," you say again, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Of course, you have to be the first person to say those words. The first person to encourage him to say no, when all he wants — for the first time in two hundred years — is to say yes.

For a moment, he’s bitter, and you can see the flash of frustration in his eyes when he finally opens them. But it’s gone in a moment, and he grins, flashing his teeth as he leans back in. “My dear,” he says, his silver tongue and honeyed words his only protection against the overwhelming confusion that’s threatening to settle over him, “I want this, trust me.”

He moves to catch your mouth with his, but you put your hand on his chest and stop him before he can. Your brows are creased, pulled together in concern.

The message is clear; you won’t let him use you to destroy himself.

His eyes flutter closed once more, and he breathes deeply, reminding himself where he is, who he is with. When he opens his eyes, they are gentle, softer than you’ve ever seen. You think, for a moment, maybe he has grown to trust you, too.

Slowly, without that same underlying malice, he leans in, close enough that his lips brush yours when he speaks. “I want this,” he repeats, his voice so quiet you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it. But then his mouth is on yours again, and he returns to his work removing your clothes.

His movements are slow, now, methodical. Like he’s trying to shake off decades of ghosts as he slides your pants down your thighs; maybe he is, you think. The fabric reaches your ankles, and you help him wriggle you free, and he tosses the clothing aside. Your underwear soon follow. Then, for one long, languorous moment, he looks at you, naked under the moonlight. Your mouth is red and sinful from kissing him, and the chilly breeze of the ever-present darkness raises goosebumps along your skin. Your nipples grow hard and pink, and you shiver. His gaze continues lower, to where you nervously squeeze your legs together in one last attempt at preserving your decency.

He wants to ruin you.

He brushes your thighs apart with one commanding swipe of his hand, and you shiver at the look in his eyes. Pupils blown wide with desire, he stares up at you through his lashes as he dips down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the valley between your breasts. He settles his body between your legs, and he veers to one side and licks a line towards one nipple, catching it between his lips. The wind cools his saliva until you’re shivering, and you’re not sure if it’s the cold or the pleasure as your head tilts back, your body arching against the ground.

Astarion suddenly sucks, his cheeks hollowing slightly as he pulls at your nipple. You gasp, and he relishes in the sound, watching you bare your throat to him. He gazes up at you, admiring the sight, as his hand slips between your thighs.

Suddenly, you gasp when fingertips stroke against your core, revealing your glistening slick. Astarion groans, the mound of your breast still in his mouth. “All this talk,” he teases, reaching up and grabbing your jaw in one hand. With the other, he rocks his touch back just slightly, barely brushing against your clit. “You should be the one telling me how much you want it, desperate little thing.”

Your face burns at his words and his casual tone, but you can’t even argue with him before he sweeps his tongue into your mouth. He licks your teeth, and at the same time he presses two fingers inside you, and you let out a broken moan against his lips. You can feel his wolfish smile as he pulls back before pumping back inside you.

You can feel how wet you are, can feel it dripping down the inside of your thighs. He moves slowly, though, allowing the gentle stretch of his fingers as he kisses you. His thumb draws lazy little circles over your clit, and he catches each of your moans with his mouth, learning exactly what you like with a few strokes of his expert hands.

Then, just as your breathing starts to hitch and break, he pulls away, taking his hand from the wet heat between your legs.

The sound you make almost comes out as a whine, and Astarion laughs, watching you flush deep crimson. “Someone needs to mind their manners,” he chastises playfully, and then he lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

Your flush impossibly deepens, and you almost look away in embarrassment. But you can’t tear your eyes from the shameful scene, and you can tell that he knows how much it turns you on to see him like this. He grins again, and then he dips his head, disappearing between your thighs.

Before you can process his quick movements, you feel him lick molten heat up your core, and you throw your arms out to the sides, scrambling for purchase. You gasp his name, and you feel him chuckle more than you hear it.

”Yes, my dear?” he asks before running the flat of his tongue against your clit.

Your body stiffens, and your face lifts to the heavens. “Don’t stop,” is all you can muster.

And he doesn’t.

He eats you out until you’re shaking, falling apart under him. He presses his fingers back into you, three this time, and sucks on your clit while he strokes you from the inside. He stares up at you while he does it, watching you writhe in breathless, beautiful agony. One of your hands finds his hair, brushing through his curls with a touch that’s much too gentle for what you’re suffering at his hand.

You can feel your pleasure mounting, tightening like a coil deep in your belly while heat flames between your legs. Your moans are coming out in pants, now, barely intelligible noises that break against the riverbed. Your hand in his hair tightens, gripping for dear life and holding him there and pushing him away all in the same movement, and your back bows off the ground, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head as he pushes you higher and higher—

Then, like a band snapping, your orgasm rocks through you, and your vision goes black while your hips stutter and your core clenches and quivers.

Bliss washes over you, and you slowly come back to earth, and you find Astarion unbuckling his armor, nearly frantic in his movements.

”Astarion,” you croak, reaching for him.

He leans over you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. His hands tug feverishly at the buckles.

”Astarion,” you sound like you’re begging. “Astarion, please—“

He huffs playfully, still pushing off his leather armor one layer at a time. “What is it?” he asks, sparing one hand to stroke gently at your throat. “Do you need some attention? Aren’t you just obsessed—?”

”No,” you whine, finally rising up on your knees and reaching for his hands. “Let me— I want you to feel good.”

By now, his chest is bare, and he’s kicked off his boots. “Sweet thing, the thought of being inside you is driving me insane.” His leather pants slide down his thighs. “Do you want—?”

”Astarion,” you say again, your voice emphatic. You take his hand and bring it to your mouth, parting your lips against his fingers. “Please.”

Astarion freezes suddenly, staring at you with an expression of recognition. His eyes trail from yours down to your mouth, where his fingers sit. He can feel the heat of your breath, and he grows impossibly harder at the thought of what you’re asking.

It’s something he’s so rarely done since being turned. A pleasure he’s so rarely accepted.

Your lips brush his fingertips when you speak. “I want to make you feel good,” you whisper, and then you take two of his fingers in your mouth.

His stomach drops as he watches you, and his cock twitches at the sinful sight of your lips wrapped around his long pale fingers. You watch his pupils dilate, and his lips part slightly as you slide your tongue down, swirling gently. Your own desire pools in your belly, watching him watch you.

Please.

He nods, his breath starting to hitch slightly at the idea of filling that mouth. You smile, and you draw back until his fingers leave your mouth with a pop. Then you ease him back gently onto his elbows, picking up where he left off by dipping your fingers into the band of his underwear. You look up through your eyelashes, watching his chest heave up and down.

”Tell me to stop,” you say sternly, and he nods, understanding your meaning. So, having his confirmation, you continue.

You slide his last layer of clothing slowly down his strong thighs, watching every reaction your movements elicit. Watching for any sign of trepidation, of apprehension. But you only see desire, and one of his hands goes to your hair, knotting in your tresses. Encouraging you further.

You move your hands lower and lower, and your mouth begins to water as you follow the shaft of his cock. He’s gorgeous in every way, and when you finally reveal the pink head, glistening with precum, you have to hold yourself back from devouring him.

You tug his underwear the rest of the way off, and then you kneel in front of him, sure that whatever gods may be listening have placed him here in front of you.

You dip your head forward, wanting only to touch him with your mouth. With his hold on your hair, hopefully that would give him enough power to say no if it became too much. Tentatively, and watching for his reaction, your tongue slips out from between your lips and licks a gentle line along his shaft, giving you your first taste of him.

Astarion’s entire body stiffens at the sensation, and you do not move again, waiting for some sign that this was okay. After a moment, he tugs at your hair and very gently touches your cheek, and the look in his eyes is clear direction for you to continue.

You brush your lips against him, leaving gentle kisses, and then your tongue follows to the head of his dick, tasting his precum before swirling and bobbing deeper.

Astarion throws his head back, and he keens as you take him into your mouth. It’s a broken sound, but his hand in your hair pushes you deeper, and you obey. You drool when his hips cant forward, and you match his movements by swirling your tongue and pulling back before sliding all the way back down. He almost can’t believe the skill of your mouth, with how innocent you looked not five minutes ago, but then his thoughts scatter again when he hits the back of your throat.

He wants to press you down until you’re choking on him, wants to cum in your mouth and make a mess of you—

But he stops himself, pulls you back by your hair and kisses you, because he needs to fuck you.

He’s panting when he grabs you by the throat and lowers you onto your back. “Say it again,” he tells you, half delirious with the need to be inside you. “Say you’re mine.”

”I’m yours,” you respond immediately, eyes shining in the moonlight.

He groans your name, cupping his hands under your thighs. He wraps your legs around his waist, lining himself up at your entrance. Your cunt is still dripping for him, and he presses his fingers against your clit, watching you jump as he touches the swollen bundle of nerves. He laughs, a breathless sound, and then he places one hand beside your head, staring into your eyes as he slides inside you.

Thank you, he wants to say. Thank you for saving me.

But that’s much too vulnerable a thought to share, so he simply rocks his hips into yours, watching your mouth fall open in pleasure.

He’s perfect, you think as he slides back out of you before slamming back in, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace. He’s perfect and he’s here and he’s yours, and you want to tell him so, but you can’t even speak, so you squeak out moans and scrabble at his chest as he fucks you.

He watches you quickly come undone beneath him, and when he decides he needs more, he lifts one of your legs and props it over his shoulder. The new angle lets him hit a target inside you that has you seeing stars, and you’re a drooling mess beneath him, eyes glazed over with pleasure. His fingers once again find your clit, and he rubs those practiced circles, just like before. He watches your chest heave, and your lips try to form his name, but he’s knocking the wind out of you with every thrust. You feel him inside you, on top of you, all around you, and you know that this is dangerous, that this is the sort of magic that will keep you coming to his tent every night.

And oh, how you both want to tear each other apart each night.

You feel your second orgasm building, so much faster than the first, and you gaze up into his eyes, watching him fuck you, and it quickly becomes too much.

“Astarion,” you finally gasp, your voice pitched so high it almost breaks, “pleasepleasepleaseplease—“

The sound of your voice threatens to send him over the edge, and his thrusts begin to turn wild, frantic. He shoves himself into you until you come apart, unraveling at the seams. Your cunt clenches over and over again, pulling him closer from the inside, and before he can pull out to empty himself on your stomach, you grab his shoulder and tilt your hips forward, begging him to stay there.

Begging him to cum inside you.

The thought shatters him, and he moans into the crook of your shoulder, thrusting erratically as he rides out his own orgasm. You feel his cock twitching inside you, and you hold him close as his thrusts slow, then stop.

As you hold him, you press gentle kisses to his face. His forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, his chin. His lips. He kisses you back, slowly, deeply. Then he pulls himself out of you, and you almost regret the sudden emptiness. But you can’t think about it for too long before he lowers himself to the ground beside you, and you follow him, still kissing every inch of him that you can reach.

”I’m yours,” you remind him. And even as you both start to clean up and head back to camp, he remembers those words.

He belonged to no one, but maybe one day, he wouldn’t mind belonging to you.

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3

[sesamenom]

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[hazelfoureyes]

before i never really interacted with blogs(cuz anxiety and very toxic friends had my tumblr, who ive gotten rid of now) but now i literally interact with every post bc of you, you are god and i will worship you, your smut is poetic af and has my legs SHAKING(.literally.)

i am ON MY KNEES❗

also, alastor and his rivals(vox or lucifer) x reader smut? like i know alastor would be petty asf and have them watch as he fucks the living out of their beloved, im curious, do you have any ideas regarding that?(cuz your ideas are delicious and im hungry for that)

You’ve left me speechless which is quite the accomplishment, Darling. I am just a little goblin! Or like the tooth fairy, but instead of teeth I take praise and instead of money I leave filthy smut 🥺 I am so glad you removed the toxic friends and are interacting more. 💖 you deserve better and your interactions are a joy. Thank you for brightening my day! I am so far away and yet you’ve got me blushing like a fool.

oooh yes okay so! Here’s some ideas 👀

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊👑₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Energy for me is Lucifer: Here to please. Alastor: Here to win. I imagine Luci brings you to the hotel for Charlie’s Birthday party, already having a precious casual fling once or twice before. All the guests are there, everyone is dancing and drinking and having a good time. Alastor notices how you call him Luci, how Lucifer cant keep his cool when you lean closer to him when you speak. Naturally, Alastor sees an opportunity to fuck with Lucifer so he asks for a dance. He is uncharacteristically sweet and loving, willing to do anything to get under the king of hell’s skin. He changes the music to something slow, holding you close he whispers in your ear during your dance, “How can any man maintain composure around you? I feel my manners slipping through my fingers every time you look my way.” When you leave the party to cool down, Alastor follows, finding you in an empty room trying to decompress. “Would you hate me if I kissed you? Be forewarned, once I start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop…”

Lucifer walks in to see you absolutely melting under Alastor, lipstick smeared and face flushed. But Luci adores you, your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s compelled to stay and watch, even as Alastor makes you moan and scream his name. “Who do you belong to, sweetheart?” “Whose cock are you made for?” You’re reduced to incoherent babbling by the time Alastor is finished toying with Lucifer. Lucifer can’t take it anymore and finds himself crawling onto the bed to swallow your moans and shower you in praise.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊🖥️₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

I can see Vox bringing his beloved personal assistant to an overlord meeting for note taking, and Alastor notices your glances to him. Vox adores you, and is always on his best behavior around you to impress you. Alastor waits for you outside of Vee Tower that night for a “chance run in”. “What luck! Allow me to buy you a drink, as a welcome to hell.” Charms you as any good southern boy could, and suggests you both go back to your office for privacy. Knowing full well Vox has cameras all over the office, Alastor fucks Vox’s assistant on his desk while maintaining eye contact with the massive collection of screens there. Vox catches sight of this while skimming through the feeds but can’t break away from the video. Alastor keeps your back to the displays while bouncing you on his cock, smirking at Vox the entire time as he leans back on his desk chair. Vox is seething and finally rushes to his office to find Alastor gone and you lying on your back, still out of breath and cum dripping onto the desk.

Vox keeps you, but gets rid of the desk. He can’t let Alastor have the satisfaction of making him lose his prized employee. For weeks after, while zoning out in board meetings, his screen flashes images of Alastor smirking from over your shoulder as you ride him. He’s entirely unaware that it’s happening and everyone is too scared to tell him.

[serpenlupus]

About Wyll and his horns (and what they mean)

Let's say I was writing a part of my Tav's story with Wyll directly connected to the dialogue he has during the tiefling party, and while struggling with this bit, I've realized there's quite a few misconceptions floating around. I felt compelled to add information to the table that might clear them, so here we go.

First, what exactly happens to Wyll when he disobeys Mizora in act one? Well, he doesn't get turned into a devil, he certainly doesn't get turned into a tiefling, he's not a half fiend, not a demon, none of that. Wyll stays human, but he has horns and red eyes (and other features we can't see on his model as of now).

(Everyone has their race listed, Wyll's remains "Human")

This is because when a warlock fails to uphold some part of their contract they can suffer a certain number of consequences, Wylls is “The character grows horns, a tail, or some other devilish features that can't be removed by any means short of divine intervention. As long as these marks persist the character detects as a fiend when subjected to Detect Evil and Good spells or similar magic.” ( from Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus, page 214)

And I’ve come across some people that think it wasn’t so bad of a punishment, that he was being racist towards the tieflings, or just not being justified in being upset after having his body forcibly changed against his will. I think they are missunderstanding just how insidious Mizora’s actions were, and here I just want to give some context to maybe bring a better understanding to the situation. Your conclusions are up to you.

Gonna start by using a not exact analogy, but I think it’s going to make the explanation easier. Stick with me for a minute.

Remember Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean? He had a branded “P” on his arm that marked him as a pirate. A murderer, robber, criminal, etc. in the eyes of the society he was a part of. What did Jack do to earn the branding? (if you don’t know this I suggest you look up the “people aren’t cargo mate” scene) He refused to transport slaves and later freed them, and Beckett had him marked as punishment.

Then, in the first movie, he saves Elizabeth, a woman he didn’t know, from drowning. Right after however, when Norrington sees he has a branded “P”, he’s like “alright, off to jail with you, and then hanging”, no other option crosses his mind. Again, Jack doesn’t know Elizabeth, isn’t indicated to think he is going to be rewarded for helping her, he just sees a drowning person, sees that no one else is going to help, and chooses to save them. That is a pretty selfless/good aligned thing to do, for no other reason that he was the one able to do it, yet the branding in his arm overrides any good action he could ever do, marking him as a criminal for execution and no further thought.

In a way, that’s what Mizora did to Wyll; she forever visibly branded him as someone that has made deals with devils, and that in the world of DnD is a VERY BAD THING. Personally I really like the mod that gives him more devilish features, but at the same time I think there was something clever about choosing to leave him looking more human. He can’t be confused with a tiefling, he doesn’t have the ears, the claws, the tail, all those features that characterize them. He looks kind of uncanny, and that would be like a red flag for anyone in that world. (Beyond the already existing hate for tieflings that I’m not gonna tackle on here because it’s a complicated thing that deserves its own post). And Wyll wants to do good, he wants to help people, to be a positive force in the world so, so badly. This dude got abducted by a nautiloid, got tadpole’d, and the first thing he did right after that was come across the Tiefling refugees and be like “Oh you need help? No worries let me teach you self defense. Oh you being attacked by goblins? Let me blast them real quick”. His way of saying fuck you to all the awful things that have happened to him is being aggressively good and kind. Mizora knows this very well, wants to see him suffer for her amusement, wants to remind him he can't escape her claws, so her choice of punishment was to forever taint his future interactions with mistrust and suspicion. Some people can go real fast from “oh thank God they saved me” to “oh no, are they gonna rob me, are they trying to trick me, are they in cahoots with the ones that attacked me first?” just because of outward appearances. Especially in DnD world. And that deserves its own conversation, but we're focusing on Wyll here.

(Mizora, when I catch you Mizora)

“Well, maybe he shouldn’t have made a deal in the first plac- - “ He was seventeen, alone, preyed upon by Mizora and put in an impossible situation. Please PAY ATTENTION to the story you’re witnesing.

Anyway.

About the tieflings. I know it’s easy to think his words can be derisive towards them, but it’s less about the horns and more about his body being changed against his will. Imagine instead that he got half his face burned, or something that disfigured him. I think his feelings at the moment were closer to that, and yeah they are pretty insensitive words to say to someone with a similar condition (horns or disfiguration), but when feelings are fresh and raw like that it’s easy to say insensitive things. Not saying it was ok for him to say them, but there was no malice in his words. I’ve also seen some people share that they think Mizora wanted to change him more to make him unrecognizable to his original self, the Wyll Ravenguard kid, and I think there is some truth to that too. She wants to make sure that Wyll remembers that he belongs to her, there's no question to that.

(MIZORA, WHEN I CATCH YOU MIZORA)

Whether the Tieflings refugees would feel unsettled by Wyll or not? Yes. In a way, they would. From reasons aside from the ones I explained above, remember that these specific tieflings come from Elturel. If you didn’t pass the History check or don’t remember, Elturel is a city that was literally ripped from the land and dragged to Avernus, First layer of hell (it left a hole on the ground and everything) because their mayor made a deal with the Archdevil Zariel some decades back in the timeline. He sold the souls of all its citizens and the city itself.

This was probably one of the worst times of their lives. Some even got captured and forced to participate in the blood War, like Dammon as a mechanic. And after Elturel got returned to the surface, the tieflings lost their homes because they reminded the other citizens of the literal Hell they’d just gone through, and they kicked them out. And remember, they met and saw Wyll as a human, and then saw him with horns. It’s not unreasonable to think that by looking at him they would be reminded of all the events that led them to the awful situation they’re in. Because of someone that was making deals with devils, just like Wyll. Even if his situation is completely different. And Wyll knows that, that’s why he tells you the tieflings are unsettled by him and chooses to stay away during the party.

It was never just about the horns.

And I know Wyll calls himself a devil but I think it’s because it’s the closest thing he looks as; devils are a whole different race with their own intricacies, although humans can be turned into devils ONCE their souls go to Avernus and they start climbing the power hierarchy there (Mizora and Raphael are cambions/ half-devils btw, which is a different thing,  there are plenty of videos exploring those details more in depth).

Do I think Larian should have made some of this information clearer/easier to access? Maybe? but to be fair, it's a game focused and dedicated to a crowd that was already somewhat familiar with the source material, that blew up waay out of what they originally expected to reach. Hopefully they’ll add some clarifications like they did to other quests. 

Anyway these are my two cents to the conversation, have a nice day, and don't hesitate to add your two cents if you feel like it!

[duelacadatoolshed]

it's a bitch convincing people to like you {Evan/Reader/HABIT}

Part 1/4

{ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 }

Summary: You really, really love your boyfriend, but you also really wish he'd told you he was occasionally, and very literally, possessed by the most irritating murder-goblin you could ever imagine before HABIT woke you up instead of Evan one morning. Except how would he have even started that conversation?

Warnings: violence, brief graphic imagery (like a sentence, courtesy of HABIT, naturally), knives, implied HABIT cruelty & behaviour. Unedited.

A/N: emhposting in 2024. based on this post if U wanna see the full fic concept. I have like 4 chapters locked and loaded but I can't promise anything beyond that. Future chapters do contain darker themes and sexual content. but I love writing HABIT and I like his dynamic with the reader here. like it if you like it, or comment, or anything. Print it out and eat it. If you hated it send it to your enemies.

The only thing worse than enduring HABIT was the thought of letting Evan suffer him alone. That's what you'd remind yourself when it's the middle of the night and your Advil is wearing off and the wounds along your body have started to ache again. Evan was sleeping soundly next to you, arm across you, holding you tightly, which he tends to do now more than he doesn't on the nights that he's home. Sometimes you wonder how the hell he even gets to sleep; you know he's not faking it because he always wakes up screaming. Still, you prefer those nights to the ones where HABIT wakes instead. That was how you'd meet him that first night.

The feeling of nails digging into your side wakes you.

"You're new," you hear the incredulous, raspy voice of what you think is your boyfriend, and you try to shove his hand away, mumbling that that hurt. Like a lightning flash, however, your hands were pinned to the bed either side of your head, as the creature wearing your boyfriend's face straddles your hips. But you don't notice the malevolent grin, nor the cruel glint of intrigue in his eyes, still waking up. You actually were a little excited by this unexpected show of dominance, and couldn't help the sleepy, flirty grin that spread across your lips.

"Oh, it's like that?" You purred, hips shifting beneath him, "good morning."

For a moment he seems caught up in you, then he looks around.

"Where the fuck are we?"

"Evan," you start to grow more confused, watching him, noticing more and more how out of character he was behaving, "we're at my place, remember?" He looks around again, slower this time, then back at you. There's no missing the malevolence in his eyes this time. This time, when you whisper his name with concern, he grins.

"Not quite."

He calls himself Evan's worse half. He calls himself HABIT. He calls you Little Rabbit with a dark grin.

HABIT talks more than he doesn't. That first night he paces your room, tearing things apart looking for some sort of weapon even as you insist you don't have -

"Not even a box cutter for arts and fuckin' crafts? What the fuck is wrong with you, don't you have a fucking hobby?" He bites out, and you, still utterly confused and now downright terrified, tremble in the corner of your bed. He bemoans not being able to stay and have fun, says he's got a schedule to keep, but before he leaves, he approaches you. When your foot lashes out, kicks him, he snags your ankle. His grip is so fucking strong, so tight; your lip wobbles, there's tears in your eyes.

"I'm gonna go, because I'm a busy man, but I promise you - I promise," and he grabs your chin forcefully, making sure you're looking him in the eyes when you start to cry, "I'll be back for you." He watches the first of the tears trail down your cheeks, looking almost hungry as he does so, "I can see why he likes you," he muses, "fuckin' soft little rabbit," he wets his lips, and you squeeze your eyes shut, quietly asking why this is happening, but all he does is laugh, "I'm gonna have fun with you." But it makes your blood turn to ice in your veins.

This wasn't normal, this wasn't the man you'd been falling for in these past few months, this wasn't a side of him you'd seen before, or even felt he was capable of having. Part of you thinks you should break up with him, terrified of what this could all mean, what he could be capable of, but another part has begun to love him, and wants answers.

It takes a bit of online investigation, but soon you come across EverymanHYBRID and The Seven Trials of HABIT. Things... start to make a lot more sense after that. Days later, there's a banging at your apartment door in the dead of night. You know it's not your boyfriend, not really.

"Go away, HABIT," you tried feebly, yawning. He shouts that he'll make a scene if he has to, and it'll be all your fault. If your research proved anything it was that HABIT making a scene usually ended with bloodshed. You didn't want that on your conscience.

You open the door. HABIT's laughter is mean when he calls you obedient.

You don't ask if he's okay, or why he's covered in blood, or whose blood it is, you really would prefer not to know. He seems surprised that you're not, almost gleeful at how nonplussed you appeared as you looked him over, gaze only pausing to linger on the knife in his hand.

"Are you going to kill me now?" You sighed, as if resigned to your fate. HABIT cocks his head to the side, regarding you curiously.

"What, no response? No fear?" He passes the knife back and forth between his hands. You simply ask him to close the door, turning your back on him as you head back into the apartment, "this isn't how this is meant to go," HABIT says, sounding almost annoyed, but he at least closes the door.

"I'm not going to scream in terror just because it gets you hard," you sniped back, heading to the refrigerator, "you want a drink? How long since you've eaten - fucking ow!" You felt the blade against your back barely a second before it bit into your skin. It's only a shallow wound, enough to sting, but he holds the blade there like it's a threat, hand around you throat, pulling you against him.

"You have a lot of fucking nerve, rabbit," he snarls in your ear, and your traitorous body is unfortunately kind of into it in this moment. Whatever fucked up fantasies you may or may not have were much healthier staying just that. So you just try and focus on all of the awful shit you know he's done, and how he's covered in someone else's blood - actually not that, he's kind of hot covered in blood.

"So do you," you bit back, not fighting his hold, refusing to struggle or give the kind of reaction he was hoping for, "kill me or piss off, HABIT, do you want a drink or not?" Before he can even properly answer, you turned your face to his for a moment - wow he's closer than you were expecting, "and if you say some edgelord shit like you want to drink my blood, I'm gonna kill myself."

For a few seconds the two of you are locked in a starting contest; you bored, HABIT scowling. He twists the tip of the knife in your back, but you force yourself to remain stonefaced, simply muttering a deadpan 'ow'.

"Have you restocked your fridge since I left?"

"Went shopping this morning."

"What do you have?"

"Get the fucking knife out of my back and I'll tell you."

You wonder if HABIT knows you're bluffing, knows that you're terrified of how he could snap at any minute and hurt you. He's playing along, sitting at your tiny kitchen table, carving something into it with his knife as you make you both hot chocolates.

"There is something fucking wrong with you, rabbit," HABIT laughs as you set down the mug in front of him and take the opposite seat.

"I care about the guy you stole the steering wheel from," you answered simply with a shrug. HABIT begins to smile again, to laugh all mean and cruel.

"Fucking hell, despite all of me you're still interested in him? Seriously you're out of your fucking mind; earlier today I gouged out a woman's eyes and made her husband eat them -"

"Sounds like your kind of party."

The realisation hits him very suddenly. You watch as it occurs. Still, you continue, rolling your eyes as you explain that you're dating Evan, not him, and every relationship has issues.

"Issues?!" HABIT gets to his feet, indignant, "I'm just a fucking relationship issue to you? Do you know how much pain I'm going to put you in?!"

"So much, I'm sure," you give him a thin, mean smile of your own, "and I'll scream and I'll cry and I'll beg for it to stop, but that's because that's the natural human reaction to tremendous amounts of pain, not because I'm actually scared of you, HABIT."

HABIT slaps you so hard you crash out of your chair and to the ground. Your face smacks into a low cabinet and there's the metallic taste of blood in your mouth as you find yourself reeling. No normal human should be able to hit you that hard. It will undoubtedly bruise. HABIT's ranting now, about how your so stupid for not fearing him, pacing and gesturing with his knife.

"Eight," you interrupt him, not bothering to get up off the floor.

"Eight what?"

"Out of ten."

"On what? The pain scale? Jesus fucking Christ you people are soft -"

"On the quality of the slap, HABIT," your self preservation skills are shocking; he's definitely going to kill you.

"Why are you like this?" He asks flatly, deflating as his anger leaves him. You sit up, cross legged, leaning against the cupboard.

"Like I said, I'm not gonna scream in terror just because it gets you hard. You're not getting a proper reaction from me because you're not the one in that body who deserves to get the satisfaction from me."

HABIT stares at you for several long moments, just wearing that eerie smile. Slowly, he approached you, squatting down to be at your level, before he reaches out, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. It comes away red and slick, and neither of you break eye contact as he sticks his thumb into his mouth to taste your blood.

"I'll get you, little rabbit," he threatens lowly and you have to pretend like he's not turning you on right now.

"I look forward to it," you give him a cold smile, "can I have my boyfriend back now?"

HABIT groans loudly, like a petulant child, but concedes, and in the next instance he's gone, leaving Evan's body collapsed on your kitchen floor beside you.

Finally you feel like you can breathe again.

[thydungeongal]

any advice for playing a character very different than you IRL? i know it sounds silly, but i play a warlock who would reasonably have good knowledge of magic that i don’t have as a newer player and would be far more eloquent/persuasive than i am on the spot. my dm asks that we speak in character before resorting to rolls which is great but i feel like i get nerfed for not memorizing books of lore/not being a theatre kid with great improv skills.

I think you should talk to your GM about the need to speak in-character because for some people it can actually be an obstacle. Now, I'm very much an advocate for players describing their characters' actions before they roll, like shit like "Can I roll to persuade this guy" is nothing. But there should not be an insistence on a strict need to speak in-character.

So like, as long as everyone else, more or less, knows what your character is doing and saying, I don't see there being anything wrong with your narration being more detached. It's also okay to switch between these two, describing character actions more abstractly one moment and then speaking lines as your character might speak them the other. A strict insistence on having to speak lines in-character all the time seems unfair, provided you describe what your character is doing in terms of actions and intent.

So anyway, assuming Gonad the Barbarian, you could like do something like "Gonad steps towards the guard and says 'What ho, good guardsman, wouldst thou allow me to go and see yon magistrate?'" or you could just say "Gonad steps towards the guard and asks the guard if he may see the magistrate." And then when asked to present an argument you could just say "Gonad says that it's of utmost importance and waves the letter with the viscount's seal in front of the guard." Like, as much as I like putting on a goblin voice and playing out my character's lines, that shit isn't necessary and this more detached form of narration is just as fine.

And finally, it's literally just okay to ask. I sometimes do this still: sometimes I'm stumped for what a cool line would be for someone to say, and this happens to me on both sides of the GM screen, and sometimes it's fun to just defer to the rest of the table like "Hey I know this would be a perfect moment for Morningwood the Elf to say something epic, but I can't figure it out, does anyone else have an idea?" Like, Morningwood the Elf may be my character but he's part of a narrative that everyone is partaking in creating, so like it's always okay to step back and ask everyone for what would be a good and cool thing for your character to say. Especially as a newer player the rest of the group should be okay with letting you ask them for advice on stuff like this without being weird about it.

Also, the folks at @anim-ttrpgs are very passionate about this sort of thing and especially third person narration, and their game Eureka encourages it very heavily. They have a few interesting posts about it on their page which I hope to dig out once I'm no longer tired, but I apparently slept pretty badly last night and am already nodding off when it is barely past nine here

[goodomensafterdark]

4.5k followers?! CALL FOR ARTISTS, WRITERS AND PODFICCERS

Oh my god, we just hit 4,500 people following the account!

(okay, missed it by a few days, we were busy okay)

What are you all doing here and when did that happen?! Well well well…  

*adjusts waistcoat*

We have something very special in mind in order to celebrate this milestone: we would like to do a bit of a rebrand of the Tumblr account.

And for this, what better than a little contest?

This will go into three directions : 

Artists

We would like to change our pfp ! We of course love @vavoom-sorted-art ‘s, but since this one was put in there, the subreddit changed 20 times! So it is time to do a bit of undusting.

Draw a riveting pfp for the Tumblr account!

Writers

We have been trying to give a good summary of who we are and what the sub and this account are all about, but… we are missing YOUR interpretation!

Write an epic/crack/lewd presentation of our sub! 

Make us LAUGH and make us HORNY!

Try to keep the main presentation at a maximum of 500 words.

If you want to write a companion fic that would be longer, go for it, but we need an actual presentation that would be a bit shorter 😉

Podficcers

You heard us, YOU TOO get to participate! We have special plans for those celebrations, you see, and for this, we will need you!

Choose a fic in our collection that is less than 1500 words and podfic it.

You will have 1 month to complete this task, so until the 28th of July!

How will the choices and results be handled

Submissions

Please submit your art, fics and podfics on the Good Omens After Dark file share here.

Folder name should be : GOAD Tumblr Contest

Name your files as follows:

[your tumblr account name]_[pfp/presentation/podfic]_submission

We will not take your submission into account if you don’t follow the GOAD account.

Your productions don't need to stay private: you can absolutely post them and mention us!

If you post ahead of the results announcement:

On Tumblr: use the tag #GOAD 4500 celebrations

On AO3: use the tag GOAD 4500 celebrations and add it to the collection

Results announcement

We know you feral goblins, so we will be planning for 2 weeks to go through the art and writing and podficcing you will have submitted.

Once we are done with it all, we will choose 3 winners:

an artist, whose art will become our new pfp

a writer, whose presentation blurb will be added to our metapost

a podficcer, whose podfic will be added to our metapost as a star example of what this community has to offer.

But for all the others, not to worry: you will of course all be celebrated for the work that you have done during this month, and will get plenty of love from us! <3

TL;DR: Celebration contest! (need to follow us here if you want to compete)

Deadline: 29th of July

Artists: draw a new PFP

Writers: write an epic/crack/lewd presentation of the sub

Podficcers: choose a fic from the collection that is not more than 1500 words long and podfic it

Prize: the winners will be part of our rebranding! The artist's pfp will be our new pfp, the writer's presentation will appear in our metapost, and the podficcer will appear in our metapost.

Good luck to you all!

[itsclydebitches]

Zevlor: An Angsty Character Analysis

Hey, Zevlor simps. Can I interest anyone in 4,000 words about our favorite disaster tiefling? 💀

“We can’t stay, but we’ll be slaughtered if we leave—we’re no fighters.”

Back during my first play-through this is the line that turned Zevlor from another dime-a-dozen, exposition spouting NPC to a character I was legitimately interested in. “We’re no fighters.” My DnD ignorance abounds, but even I could see that wasn’t an accurate statement. Here’s a mountain of a man sporting fancier armor than my level 2 Tav knows exists yet, having wrecked half the goblin hoard with his crossbow and, if you let him, he'll happily turn to punching as a solution to verbal disagreements. Plus, he’s clearly the one giving the orders, so what do you mean you’re not a fighter?

Having explored the Grove a bit I chalked it up to a generalized assessment of the refugees as a whole. They’re mostly kids, civilians, and would-be protectors who only look the part of fighters in cobbled-together armor. One woman is grappling with the guilt of killing someone for the first time, even an enemy. Lakrissa is sure they’re all going to get slaughtered and is willing to put money on that fact. Meanwhile, the couple you meet are more concerned with what pet they’ll get when they somehow, someway, make it to the city. Don't worry about how that'll happen. You learn later that even those like Ronan are small potatoes compared to most of the baddies you’ll face. On paper he looks and sounds like the real deal—dressed in robes, talking up an apprenticeship with the famous Lorroakan—but scenes like the celebration light show and his own fury at needing to be saved, again, highlight how far he still has to go. The point is that Zevlor is right: these aren’t fighters and he at 18 strength, paladin, former commander, is definitely the exception.

However, BG3 is the sort of detail-heavy game where I’d expect them to include that exception in the dialogue. “We can’t stay, but we’ll be slaughtered if we leave—these people aren’t fighters.” Zevlor’s inclusion of himself in this assessment continued to nag at me and it didn’t start to make sense until I delved into his tag here on tumblr, with more patient players than myself posting everything there is to know about the tiefling. (Thanks, all.) Zevlor is fascinating to me in part because he has this contradictory nature, one example of which is that he’s a very talented fighter who desperately doesn’t want to be a fighter anymore.

…but also he totally does.

We overhear in his dialogue to Tilses that Zevlor is adamant about shedding the titles he’s earned through combat: Hellrider, Commander, Sir. He insists that they’re just civilians now and it’s not like he’s being disingenuous here—note that he introduces himself as just “Zevlor” to Tav. Zevlor means what he says to Tilses and we can see that he’s trying to both reinforce his point and lesson the blow by referring to her as “Tilly.” The nickname is a sweet one, hinting at their close bond in just a single word, reminding her that he’s not saying this to hurt her, he cares for her… but the nickname is simultaneously something he never would have used as her commander. The intimacy meant to comfort is also a hard blow to weather. They're now people who use nicknames inappropriate for the hierarchy of battle.

So Zevlor means what he says here, means it enough that Tilses is convinced and drops her use of “Commander,” but there’s definitely a hint of bitterness in his voice. At least, I’ve always heard it. Zevlor is steadfast in his conviction here, even going so far as to say, “I’m done soldiering, Tilly” when discussing what will come next at Baldur’s Gate. Yet for all of that his tone conveys (understandable) anger and disappointment that it’s come to this. Zevlor doesn’t act like someone who truly wants this change, but rather someone who’s been forced to accept it.

Is it outside forces unwillingly influencing him then? Did Avernus truly change things irrevocably? No, not really. At least, not in the way Zevlor likes to claim. Tilses herself states that being a Hellrider is for life; nothing can take away that title. You lost your post? Your whole city? Most of the people under your protection? Doesn’t matter! You’re a Hellrider forever, no matter the circumstances. I can easily picture a time in Zevlor's life where he would have agreed with Tilses wholeheartedly. They are Hellriders, dammit, and so long as there’s one person looking for their help they will wield that title alongside their blades. And right now, Zevlor has a lot more than just one person in need of his assistance.

So it’s not that Avernus truly stripped them of that identity. Nothing can do that. Zevlor is not rejecting titles and planning retirement because the mechanisms of fate are forcing him to.

He’s doing all that because he’s lost confidence in himself.

Even as someone with a shaky understanding of DnD classes, I love the parallel between a broken oath and the rejection of a lifelong title. If Zevlor can fail in his oath—or in his faith entirely, according to the memories stemming from his pod—why-ever would he think that any other ‘permanent’ part of his identity was worth fighting for? If you can loose the very thing you’ve built your entire life around, every important aspect of yourself, tied to your very soul… what’s a bestowed title compared to that? Zevlor doesn’t believe himself worthy of being a Hellrider anymore, but I think that goes deeper than a string of horrific circumstances making him feel incompetent. As an Oathbreaker, Zevlor likely believes that if he couldn’t uphold that, he can’t uphold anything. Calling himself a Hellrider would be a lie. A fiction. A pathetic, dangerous, insulting fiction at that. It’s like calling yourself the “Hero” while continually failing those around you. Sure, others might insist it’s a title you’ve earned, one you will always carry with you, but you don’t believe them anymore and at a certain point calling yourself that feels worse than embracing the title of “Villain." You don’t want to be the villain… but you want to pretend you’re the hero even less. Pretending is exhausting.

We see this struggle in the many ways that Zevlor fails, or almost fails, to uphold the ideals that originally guided him. I use the term “villain” above deliberately because Zevlor is not merely a former hero-type who’s self confidence has been shattered, or who has been reduced to a civilian, or who thinks themselves useless; he’s actively fighting against temptations that, under less stressful situations, he’d never even consider. I don’t think he is a villain, I think he’s a flawed, struggling victim who sees his own, inevitable mistakes as villainous—and the longer that warped perspective continues the easier it is to fall into bad behaviors. This cycle is perfectly summarized in the autobiography Zevlor keeps by his bed:

“When every passer-by thinks you a thief and a heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one.”

We don’t know if this is Zevlor’s autobiography (as far as I’m aware, anyway) but even if it’s not the words have clearly resonated enough for him to keep them nearby. This particular line paints a pretty clear picture of Zevlor’s struggle. If everyone you meet says you’re devil-kin, vermin, or would-be criminal, isn’t it easier to just give them what they want? If you can’t persuade them otherwise, why put in the effort of trying? If he can’t be Faithful to his God, why have faith in anything at all? If he can’t save these people—setback after setback, mistake after mistake—why is he even making the effort?

Zevlor obviously is trying, very, very hard, which is why such thoughts are merely temptations rather than actual, questionable actions. Still, the Grove gives us numerous examples of the precipice he’s balanced on—and the ways Tav can tip him in one direction or another. You can talk Zevlor down from his anger and get him to acknowledge his disgust in nearly sinking to Aradin’s level. You can also let him boil over and punch the human at a time when the last thing anyone needs is more violence. You can convince Zevlor that there are peaceful ways of stopping Kagha's ritual, or you can help him in pursuing the darker temptation to kill her. It’s a “low” thought, but at his own admission he hasn’t been above entertaining it. Zevlor’s requests for help, though always polite and humble, carry a spark of manipulation in them too. He’s not above leveraging your previously selfless good deed to his advantage—"She owes you for saving this grove"—and if you approach him before speaking with Kagha he’ll claim that the ritual will “be trouble—for all of us.” Except, no? Not really? Tav can make it clear that they’re just here for a healer, they’re only passing through, and as a fighter they are not beholden to the Grove’s sanctuary as the teiflings are. It’s not trouble for everyone involved, yet Zevlor frames it as such in the hopes that (unnecessary) self-interest may motivate you if selflessness fails. Finally, if Zevlor dies in your play-through and you use Speak the Dead on him, he will admit to having “plenty” of secrets, none of which he’ll share. Admittedly, this may be the result of cut content, specifically a story-line in which Zevlor knowingly betrays the tieflings rather than being tricked by the Absolute. Still, the game as it stands is the story we have and within it we’re given a man who is both fighting against these dark urges (ha) and has a past riddled with secrets. If Zevlor is anything, it’s blunt when it comes to his own failings, accurate and otherwise. So how terrible must these secrets be that he outright refuses to divulge them when, generally speaking, most corpses speak freely in death?

However, out of all of this the struggle I’m most intrigued by is the one surrounding the gate. Zevlor represents the tieflings: persecuted refugees, vulnerable civilians, people seeking to survive through cooperation, specifically by joining a community. Kagha represents the druids (or at least a vocal subset of them in Halsin’s absence): bigoted individuals, powerful fighters, people seeking to survive by giving in to their fears, specifically by keeping themselves isolated. This is the moral dichotomy of the Grove and it is symbolized through the gate. Zevlor wants to open it to everyone whereas Kagha wants to close it, permanently.

So isn’t it odd that Zevlor is the one ordering it shut?

When the scene first starts Kanon shouts down that no, he won’t open the gate. Zevlor said that no one is allowed in. Notably, he’s saying this to Aradin and his crew, people that the Grove is at least passingly familiar with, given that Halsin left with them to search the temple. It’s also notable that Zevlor isn’t expecting goblins to attack the Grove. He’s shocked that this is suddenly a problem, brought about by Aradin’s decision—“You lead them here?”— and the entire point of staying at the Grove is that it’s at least comparatively safe. Yes, there have been more attacks lately, but Zevlor seems to be relying on the Grove’s relatively unknown location, as well as the fact that goblins are normally disorganized. The safety is only compromised because Aradin brought a hunting party back, so Zevlor has no reason to expect any visitors, let alone ones that would be a threat.

More importantly, he should welcome such visitors even if he did expect them. After all, that’s precisely what the tieflings are: strangers with no ulterior motives other than to survive. Broadly speaking it makes perfect sense why he'd shut the gates. Zevlor’s first priority is to his people, so anything that keeps them safe is, theoretically, a good thing. But through the lens of his specific characterization and this specific, moral dilemma, it’s an awfully hypocritical decision. Based on everything we’ve seen, our party would not have been welcomed by Zevlor if we’d arrived without danger on our heels and a rescue to endear him to us. So his people should be welcomed, trusted, kept safe, given the benefit of the doubt… but Zevlor isn’t necessarily willing to extend that same trust to others. At the end of the day, he and Kagha want a version of the same thing: safety for those they deem are worthy of it.

It’s precisely these flaws and temptations that make Zevlor such a great character to me, even before he’s tricked by the Absolute. The fandom has leaned hard into Zevlor’s self-loathing and let me tell you, I love it (kisses, hugs, and cookies for you all), but canonically I think he has more reason to fear himself than we tend to portray in the H/C fics. I’m not saying he’s a bad person. Rather, it’s precisely because Zevlor is such a good person that he has the capacity to fall so far. It’s his all-consuming desire to protect his family that leads Zevlor to do and consider so much that a paladin would normally balk at. Denying others the safety you’ve been granted. Subtly manipulating others to do your dirty work. Considering murder.

Zevlor is someone torn between doing the Right Thing and the thing he believes will help those under his care survive. Importantly, when we first meet him he considers these to be two separate courses of action. So can you imagine what goes through his head when he first sees Tav saving everyone and doing so righteously? I think it’s integral to Zevlor’s characterization that the game all but forces you to play the Good Guy in that initial encounter. A cut scene starts, you’re thrown into combat immediately afterwards, and unless you plan to start attacking the Grove members alongside the goblins (which the mechanics discourage through the coloring that distinguishes enemies from allies) you will always finish this fight as Zevlor’s hero. Sure, you can be an asshole afterwards and demand payment. You could already be plotting your betrayal and the slaughter of all the refugees. But in this moment you are nothing but a miracle made flesh in his eyes. Right from the start Tav is succeeding in all the ways Zevlor feels like he's failed. You're the hero.

More specifically, you’re an Every-Man Hero. We might have epic backstories for our Tavs, but within confines of the game you’re largely a nobody when not playing an Origin character. How powerful must that have been to witness then? A total stranger, someone who has no ties to the tieflings or even, depending on your class, any sworn reason to help others, putting their life on the line to save what is most precious to Zevlor? I think a lot about the fact that he never asks Wyll to step in and try to change Kagha’s mind. She owes him just as much as she does Tav—Wyll is an equal participant in that fight and, if your shoddy play style is anything like mine, he likely did more damage—and Wyll is clearly invested in the tiefling’s survival, training the kids as he is. Now, obviously Zevlor’s reticence is largely a question of assigned roles (we need to be the one engaging with Kagha because we’re the protagonist/player) but, like Zevlor’s choice to include himself in the Not a Fighter group, it would have been all too easy to explain this away within the narrative. One comment about how Wyll already tried and failed, or how Kagha doesn’t trust Warlocks, or hell, maybe you don’t meet Wyll in the Grove at all. It’s an easy thing to accomplish and though this is edging more into the realm of headcanon than anything else, I can’t help but think that Wyll isn’t the kind of person that Zevlor could turn to for help right now. Because he’s a folk hero. The Blade of Frontiers, known far and wide for his impressive, selfless deeds. Zevlor is struggling so hard to keep the tieflings safe, tempted by all the unsavory solutions that might achieve that, drowning in self-hatred as his past and current failings catch up with him, wanting nothing more than to be his peoples’ protector:

“I would be a paladin again—with a god’s purpose, a god’s power. Everything I needed to protect my people. And all the while, the cult tortured them. They fought, and ran, and died around me, while I imagined myself their savior.”

Three of the things Zevlor mutters while trapped in the pod are “Hellrider… for… life…,” “Trust… in me…,” and “Children… look away… look at me…” He wants to be the protector, the one children look to for reassurance, he wants his words to Tilly to be a lie and he wants a way to prove that he is a Hellrider for life… but he’s not. At least, Zevlor doesn’t believe it. He lost his titles while Wyll still proudly bears his. Wyll trains the children to fight while Zevlor can only get swept up in anger at them being threatened. The people trust Wyll, adore him, he’s the hero and Zevlor… is not. Not anymore.

It’s too painful to approach Wyll and admit all that. That would be a hell of a blow to Zevlor's pride. But Tav? A stranger? A nobody? The Every-man who had no reason to help or reputation pressuring them, saving them anyway? That’s inspiring. Someone like Tav could be the answer and even, perhaps, the proof that Zevlor could redeem himself. Neither of them are folk heroes, untouchable in their assumed perfection. Tav is a living, breathing example of how the flawed, everyday adventurer can be everything Zevlor strives for.

No wonder he won’t shut up about them in the Shadowlands.

All of this is why it’s so tragic that Zevlor wasn’t given a redemption arc. Sure, you can recruit him for the final battle against the Netherbrain, but there’s no quest to change the cast’s opinion of him—or change Zevlor’s opinion of himself. All his content at the end of Act 2 and Act 3 reinforces that self-hatred.

Let’s make a list, shall we?

Nearly every line of his reunion with Tav has Zevlor painting himself in the worst light possible, from “a lie kinder than the truth” to his refusal to join you because he believes he’ll stab you in the back. You cannot convince him of the Absolute’s manipulation and there’s no response to his belief that such horrors start within the person like, “Of course it does! Because we’re all flawed and equally capable of good and evil deeds! That potential doesn’t make you irredeemable, Zevlor, it makes you mortal!!”

He’s utterly failed as his peoples’ champion and he’s also deemed “unworthy” of being a True Soul. Obviously not being chosen by the Absolute is a good thing, but for a man drowning in self-loathing that’s one hell of a complicated rejection.

Nearly all the tieflings hate him now, all those people he’s been sacrificing his soul to keep safe. I found it particularly devastating that this is one of the rare occasions where nailing a persuasion check doesn’t change the person’s mind. There’s at least one tiefling at Moonrise (I’m drawing a blank on her name) who will believe you when you explain how the Absolute influenced Zevlor, but that doesn’t lead to forgiveness.

Zevlor is deemed unimportant on a literal, narrative level. He is very easy to miss in the pods (I nearly did on my first play-through) and the game does incredibly little to dissuade you from that mistake. Putting aside for a moment that obviously an Origin companion is more significant than a minor NPC, compare this to Shadowheart screaming from her own pod, the game making it abundantly clear that this is someone in need of help—someone worth rescuing. She’ll even say later that you could have run past, more concerned with your own survival and the big picture heroics to bother with her. How must it feel then, if Zevlor ever learns that Tav was there and never stopped for him?

If you do miss Zevlor… oh boy. We’ve probably all seen at least a recording of Orin’s so-called gift. There are plenty of characters who can meet untimely and devastating ends, but very few go through this level of horror. Zevlor—after being held captive, remember—is tortured by God’s Favorite Torturer. He is stripped of his personhood and reduced to a mere “message,” a “pet.” Zevlor is further humiliated in death by being literally stripped of his armor—not just vulnerable in his nakedness, but denied the last symbol of his faith, his status, his power—and it’s always struck me that this is the closest we see to him 'enjoying' an intimate moment, this parody in Orin’s painting. Zevlor is one of the NPC’s most in need of physical comfort and instead he’s forced into this torturous mockery of a sex scene. It also hits hard that when Tav first spots his body the narration says that Zevlor “might almost be sleeping.” Undoubtedly this is a man who isn’t taking good care of himself. He needs a good night’s rest, yet this horrifying trick is all he gets.

As if all this weren’t enough, most of your companion are VERY critical of Zevlor while commenting on his demise. It’s one thing for the tieflings to believe the worst given their ignorance and the fact that they are the ones who suffered from Zevlor’s failure, but your company understands the Absolute and the ways that she gets her hooks in people. Still, Astarion calls him a “wet rag” even if he did deserve better than this. Shadowheart wouldn’t have wished this on him either, but she can’t help but slip in a “no matter his failings.” Lae’zel, often the most blunt, straight up says that he was “always destined to fail his people—and to fail us.” Wyll shakes his head and intones that “even good intentions can lead us down deadly paths.” Only Gale and Karlach stick to mourning the dead rather than airing his shortcomings.

When I spoke to my allies before the final battle Zevlor didn’t have a cut scene. It became clear to me later that this must have been a bug in my play-through, but at the time it only reinforced my feelings that his story was incomplete. Looking on Youtube I’ve found recordings of him saying that he is a Hellrider once more and he would “die a proud man if [he] were to die this day”… but that rings as terribly hollow given where we left him. Last we were together, Zevlor was saying in no uncertain terms that he could not be trusted, he would fail again, he was unworthy of forgiveness. Where did this change of heart come from? It makes perfect sense that he would help Tav in this moment—he begs to be of some use after getting free—but not that he would present himself with such confidence. Within the story as it’s been told this feels… fake. Like Zevlor is putting on a mask to fit the mood of this lively, optimistic party. Which, in turn, gives the “I would die a proud man” line a terrifying implication to me. Does Zevlor expect to die this day? Does he intend to? What would persuade him not to lay down his life here and now? His mission is complete. The tieflings are safe—though not by his hand. There's no hero's welcome waiting for him after this battle. They hate him. He hates himself, and by his own admission the one thing that could still make him proud would be to die at Tav’s side, trying to do one last bit of good. If someone said that to me after everything Zevlor has been through I would keep them far away from the front lines.

(I did, for the record lol.)

I’m not saying anything new then when I go, “Larian, PLEASE add more to his story.” Give us a Zevlor side-quest to renew his oath. Let us invite him to our camp. Something to link the broken man mid-game and the confident fighter at the end so that the latter doesn’t feel like an alarm bell with two legs and a tail. I mean yeah, I get hooked on minor characters so 75% of this is simply me wanting more content of a fave, but I also I do legitimately believe that BG3’s story would benefit from tying up loose ends like this.

Zevlor is a fantastic character, someone who contains an astounding amount of complexity for so little screen time. You have to follow up on that complexity though. If he’s meant to be a purely tragic figure, okay, fine, that’s the ending you get with Orin. But one where he joins you with a smile and reclaims a title he's previously rejected with such fervor requires more work in the middle; a through-line that explains how someone with so much self-loathing learns to think of himself as the hero again.

Because it does all come down to Zevlor’s perception of himself. He was always a hero, flaws and all. He always was and always will be a Hellrider.

The UI knows what's up :)

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (4)

[Astarion x reader] A little longer than usual, I hope that’s fine for all of you :,DDD I didn't want to cram too much into the post though, so the segment at the end might be continued in full detail, or maybe not! Let's see.|Word count: 2.9k.|

Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, allusions to sex, a few ooc characters, reader being a dumbass and wahtnot.

Part 3 here!!

Masterlist here!!

A party is being held at the camp in the heroes’ honor, which greets you with a lively crowd that you’ll hopefully meet again soon. And with a gathering this large, you’re bound to garner attention. But with a constitution as poor as yours from the night before, a round of drinks is the last thing you want. 

Alternatively: A bloodless human tries to balance respectfully participating in a drinking party, while also not drinking at all. 

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

The sun rises, the warmth of its rays gently waking you in the absence of the campfire’s flames. The soft chirping of the birds greet you a good morning as your eyes slowly open, ready to greet the day as a new opportunity arises.

Is what would have happened in a more idyllic scenario. Instead, you bolt awake with a pounding headache, worse than any hangover could possibly feel like, and quickly rush to get up. By the sheer brightness of the light that burns your newly opened corneas, it is far later than when you usually wake. And breakfast still hasn’t been made. 

“Well, good morning sleepy head.” One of your companions, Gale, says as he fixes his belongings. Readying himself for the skirmish that was about to take hold later on in the day.

“I’m very  sorry for waking up late. It won’t happen again.” You bow your head low for a moment before he waves you off.

“Oh come now, we all have our off days. Besides, I think the rest would agree with me when I say what you made for us last night was more than enough to last us ‘til morning.” His statement is punctuated by the lively sounds of the others training. Ready and well rested for whatever may come.

You look around. None have seemed to mind your temporary absence, so you endeavor to double check with everyone leaving and ensure that they had a sound strategy with the necessary materials and weapons should there be a need for failsafes. You remind them of certain notes that some of them have informed you about but failed to share with the rest of the group. 

‘While goblins typically go down faster than other opponents, they have no sense of honor nor pride which gives way for them the opportunity to use more underhanded tactics. But they also aren’t very bright, so you can convince the others to let them infiltrate the camp and eradicate them from the inside out.’

As the rest disperse, finalize their plans and check their supplies, your favorite character approaches you much like he usually does every morning. Only this time, you see that he looks very pleased. A more vibrant spark in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Thank goodness you’ve finally woken up.” He looks at you, in the same way an old friend of yours would when they’re seconds away from telling a joke. 

The look fades soon enough though as he breathes out. You wonder if it’s because the joke isn't funny anymore, or if he never had a punchline to begin with.

“You looked a little ill last night, but you’ve certainly recovered.” Recovered isn’t the word you would use to describe your current state of feeling almost half dead, but you don’t bother correcting the details.

“And you look particularly vibrant today, Astarion.” The itch of your neck intensifies as you return a pointed look at him as he frowns.

“Oh, of course! Now, don’t be so upset. I will admit that I got a little carried away, I apologize.” He pauses. The frown remains on his face for a while before it is erased with his usual expression of confidence. 

“But let’s not fall out over this.” He moves to stand closer to you, taking your hand to his as he nears it to his lips as he continues. 

“We need each other.” 

And whether its done purposefully or not, you see his fangs peek out from his mouth and a shiver courses through your body.

You slip your hand out of his own in a panic and interject. 

“I know that much already, and I trust you not to let what happened last night happen again. I also apologize for not noticing sooner and dealing with the situation better.” You hold your head down a bit to apologize but quickly meet his gaze gain. “But I do need to know what we’ll have to feed you from now on.”

The look of confusion, and perhaps even shock that was once swimming in his eyes dissipates before you can notice them when he swears upon his resolve. “No innocents, you have my word. After all, you know what I am now. I can fight with all my weapons–” He grins, allowing you a clearer view than what you had earlier. “Teeth included.”

“And if I happen to drain the occasional bandit during a fight, what's the harm? They’re just as dead.” He makes a very compelling argument, at least to your standards.

You sigh, satisfied for now. You’re confident that none of your party members would end up at the mercy of his fangs, and you’re more than sure they would be able to overpower him more than your attempts did. But the same sentiment cannot be shared for possibly important, plot driving, characters that you might meet later on.

So you propose something to strengthen your trust that the unlikely will stay the unlikely.

“Look, I’m–” You breathe in, almost as if you're trying to suck back whatever courage washed over you back in as you steeled yourself for what you were about to say next.

“I’m not against you feeding from me, but!” You punctuate the last syllable as you see his grin growing wider. “We need to discuss things beforehand. No prowling over me while waiting for me to wake up or to sink your teeth into.”

The proposal greatly delights him, as is evident in his response. “Of course! That sounds eminently reasonable. I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together. But until then: no more late-night surprises. You have my word on that.” 

After that, he makes a joke about feeling ‘peckish already,’ and quickly gathers the rest of the party to leave on their adventure.

You promise them a feast when they came back as the victors that they are. What you forgot, after what felt like weeks in the real world, was the crowd that would come filtering in to celebrate their heroes’ achievements as well.

————————————

When you saw the tieflings from the grove traveling alongside your companions, you knew they had come to celebrate. And you blanched at the thought of the provisions they’d be seeking to pair with their drinking. It’s been so long since you went through this event, and you no longer recall if they even ate anything during the party.

You look at your bubbling cauldron–– a bigger one as you had anticipated a few acquaintances accompanying them–– but you wager that at least a little extra things to nibble on won’t hurt to have. You still have quite the amount of camp supplies in the trunk, but you keep it reserved for the camp’s use only. So you smile at your returning comrades and alert the others that stayed behind for your reason to leave and that they can begin eating dinner. 

While others told you it wasn’t necessary, the rest just nodded with a smile and yelled that they’d wait for you to return. You return quite too quickly though, all the while informing them why you’re keeping the communal chest in your tent as you spy the child that tried to steal and swindle the group a few days prior approaching with the rest.

They have a laugh and you quickly proceed with your plan to find at least a few consumable berries and nuts or seeds to accompany the drinks later on. 

But foraging for said consumables near dark is a choice not for the faint-hearted. You came to realize this when you heard the low grumble of a large animal, thankfully far from your form. You turn to look behind you, taking great care to do so as slowly as possible so as to not alert the mysterious creature.

In the clearing, you spot a rather dark looking bear and you feel a cold sweat begin to form on your temple. Hands, growing wet in the dangerous situation you’ve placed yourself in. This wasn’t the same as being drained to death by a vampire, that, you could at least reason with. But a wild animal? With your lack of magical prowess and lesser knowledge of connecting with nature and the wild, you would be finished if it were to follow you.

The small pouch of nuts and wild berries stayed holstered on your waist, but the bear’s eyes that were previously low on the ground are now trained on you. Almost as if it were caught doing something it wasn’t supposed to be. 

You freeze. You forgot what the basic policy was around brown or black bears and therefore couldn’t do much about your current predicament. There shouldn’t be a bear around this area, not unless they had traveled from far away, or that this bear was one of your future companions.

And while the latter isn’t impossible, you most certainly did not want to gamble your life on a possibility. So you tried to compose yourself, returned the gaze of the bear with a shaky and careful nod, and turned back to return to camp. Figuring that the amount of tidbits you gathered would have to suffice.

 When you return, the company you shared seems to be in high spirits. Some more than others. But conversation was plentiful and you smiled as the tieflings cheered for your comrades. You quickly got to work and began to chop the nuts into thinner pieces. Something you learned to make the appearance of something look more abundant than it really is.

While you were chopping away unfortunately, you nick your finger along the way and silently curse. Unfortunate, but not an unforeseeable outcome given the booming drums of the bard that plays oh so nicely with your bloodless state. You quickly, but neatly, arrange the provisions on two small platters, and position them near the larger gatherings. 

“Flitting around like a hummingbird as always, I see.” A familiar, but not immediately recognizable voice greets you as you pass them. You turn and you see an unexpected acquaintance with a bottle in their hand and an incredibly charming grin.

“Dammon! How lucky of me to run into you.” You genuinely were elated to see him. You didn’t see much of him later on in the game, and being able to interact with him beyond the opportunities given to you was certainly nice.

“I could say the same. Though you’re as lively as you usually are.” There’s no malice in his tone, only an innocent observation, yet you feel embarrassed to have been seen scuttling about like a bug.

“I– promise I’m more organized. I just didn’t expect us to be having any guests.” He takes notice of how you push your fingers into your palms repetitively, a small action that soothes you.

“I think you’ve done more than a fine job already. The celebration is for you all, and it was us who planned to come and might’ve put your friends on the spot.” He later takes notice of the cut on your finger as well.

“Speaking of,” He gingerly grasps your hand, looking to you for permission, but you’re too confused to respond with anything he can understand. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy for the night? You’ve done enough. And if what happened at the grove tells me anything about you, I’m sure they’ll survive even if you settle. Just for a bit.” 

He leads you nearer to the water and produces a small washcloth to clean a bit of your finger as you respond. “The grove? They did that on their own. I just um, take notes.” You sit on a fallen tree, your head still fuzzy, as you observe his crouched form. Inspecting the cut as he cleans it. 

A curious interaction. Not one that you’d expect from an non-romanceable NPC, but an interesting one nonetheless. And it would seem that someone had found it equally as interesting, if the way he scrutinizes you had anything to do about it.

He chuckles in turn. “If modesty is how you like to live, then I won’t impose.” He smiles and gets up as you continue your conversation. You don’t recall if the tiefling has ever had this much screen time, but his voice is rather lovely so you don’t complain about it.

You end up discussing quite a bit, but you focus on what can be done about your party. Specifically Karlach as you worry for the future and you’d like to have answers for her when he isn’t around during your journey. He doesn’t have much idea of what else can be done, but he does mention that he should have something by the time you meet him again in Baldur’s Gate.

You do remember that you might meet him a lot sooner, but you don’t mention it explicitly. You do, however, advise him to be extra careful around the oxen as they can be rather unpredictable this time of year.

As you continue, you notice his eyes flit up every now and then. Like something was catching his attention ever so often. You ask him about it and he actually laughs at your genuine inquiry. “It looks like I was wrong. Your friend there looks like he’d like his turn for your company.”

You turn around and you don’t immediately eye anyone looking in your direction. You were never the subtle type, so you looked around, blatantly searching for someone. It was a bit odd to see.

Your eyes do eventually train on his, but he doesn’t necessarily look like he wants to talk to you. Sure, he’s scowling away, though that’s not out of the ordinary at all. Besides, he has a bottle of something that you hope is helping him relax.

Still, perhaps Dammon saw something you didn’t so you politely thank him for his company and excuse yourself.

You greet the others that regard you as you walk past them. Declining the offers to drink and excusing yourself politely when you were asked to stay a bit. 

As you approach him, a tiefling tries to strike up a conversation with him. With a bored look, he dismisses them and turns to look at you. He takes a sip, sneers, and begins his rant now that you’re situated in front of him.

“I hate it. This is awful.” 

“The…wine?” He looks at you as if he should be mad, but a hint of amusement surfaces past the expression anyway. 

“There’s that, but I’m talking about the tieflings. We killed some goblins to save the others. The tally of lives didn’t change much. But what do I get for my hard work? A pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.” He looks down the neck of the bottle, swirling its contents before handing it out for you to take.

You look at the bottle, then him, warily. Modern alcohol is already a wonder to you, and this medieval mead could only do so much worse. Still, you take the bottle, and take a very small sip.

It’s a heavy, rich, red. Dry and sharp. You make a small sound of shock as you keep the liquid in your mouth. Offering him an awkward smile and a nod as you do.

“Ugh, see what I mean? Awful.” 

“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?” You would think that after an entire day of fighting whatever was out there he’d be tired. Apparently not. 

You sigh, ready to reprimand him and that he should just enjoy the night, but you stop when you feel his unburdened hand reach out to you. Eyes, boring into your own as he propositions you.

You’re here. Face in the grasp of a character you’ve longed to romance with what little time you’ve had away from your scholarly pursuits. Yet meeting him in strange, yet not all too unfamiliar, territory stirs uncertainty within you. Because while he doesn't have a knife at your throat like he did when your character first met him, it certainly does evoke the same sentiment.

‘To, “make me his”, is that right?’ While the idea is tempting, that statement alone can have various interpretations. And you didn’t want to hedge your bets on the one that made your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

Thankfully, he releases his hold on your visage. Only the gods know how much his touch alone can influence you, and you struggle to stand upright.

“I’m– very,-- truly, sorry, but don’t you think you have the wrong person? I mean,” You gesture to yourself with both hands, a cut visible from the labor in the few hours prior to the large festivities going on.. “Uh…in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly in a position to make any um, lucrative offers.” 

 He looks at you, a familiar expression graces his face. He leans his weight on one leg, and you struggle to recognize what his body language is conveying. This is one of those instances you wished you had the dice roll mechanic of the game at your disposal. 

“Why, that hardly matters, darling. What matters is that you’re here.” He takes a sip from his bottle, the very same that he allowed you to partake from moments prior. Only this time, without the sneer at the aftertaste as he continues.

“But then again, what’s a sinner to do when faced with the very embodiment of chastity?” A smile graces his face, but it’s one that is all too perfect. As if he’s rehearsed the same song and dance enough to save him lifetimes.

“Let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep we’ll find each other.” 

You have no idea what to expect. Well, you do, but you’re not very sure if this is necessary. You’ll just have to find a way to continue the story without having to go through with this. For now, at least. 

“We’ll see about that, Astarion.” 

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, @auszimbo, @maruichio, @iamsexytrash, @craig-mywifeisdead-boone, @grimissleepy, @fandomsfanman, @bitchyzombienacho, @r1kk, @ancuninstar, @izuoyarmin, @gracemisconduct, @kiinokochii, @marina-and-the-memes, and @life-is-hard-m8 for asking to be tagged!!

[aaronsrpgs]

In Praise of Random Encounters

I'm in my "responding to frequently asked Reddit r/rpg questions" phase, so please allow me to defend the random encounter. This post is in response to everyone who goes, "Why do people use random encounters? They interrupt the flow of the story, and it doesn't make any sense to have something randomly show up and fight."

Did you know there was a Pokemon named after me?

In this post, I will argue against these strawmen, make a case for random encounters in certain games, and describe my favorite random encounter situations from my own games.

This disputation against random encounters can be broken up into three parts:

they interrupt what is already going on ("the story")

they are illogical

they're automatically a fight

I'm going to address these last to first.

Random encounters shouldn't jump right into fights. If used as intended, they come with an encounter distance, meaning sometimes you just see signs of the encounter, or you spot them from far away. And they should also come with what used to be called a reaction roll, which dictates how the encounter feels about the PCs. These were rolled on 2d6, which meant there was a bell curve that favored results in the 6-8 range, which were usually something like "wary" or "neutral."

Second, the logic of random encounters. If you're using them right, random encounters should make sense. They should only have a chance of happening in places where the encounters could be, and encounter tables ought to be chosen based on location. So you won't get a dire trout in a desert or whatever.

This last bit is the hardest one. If it feels like a random encounter would disrupt "your story," you're probably running a game whose underlying philosophies are opposed to random encounters, yes. It's probably also opposed to many other frameworks that were present in traditional/old-school rule sets. If your game has a pre-planned story or plot, if that plot requires a certain pace or order, and if the injection of outside elements would disrupt that plot, you probably shouldn't use random encounters.

(You also shouldn't use D&D or its cousins. You might also not want to have other players, since they can disrupt those plots. But that's just me being petty.)

A page of random encounter rules from Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. This is a shitty example. I promise it's easier than this.

So when SHOULD you use random encounters? Use them if the game you're running is attempting to simulate a world that has its own logic and background that is not dependent on the player characters. Random encounters help show that the world is in motion at all times and that people and creatures move about of their own volition. They don't show up when it's meaningful to the plot or the other characters; they wander. They're random.

Another key component of this style of gaming is that they usually consider story as something that emerges from or comes after play. "Remember how we tried to cross the raging river full of electric eels, and you dropped your sword, and I almost died, but we made it across? That was awesome." These things didn't happen because they were important plot points predicted by the DM; they are the results of rolls at the table, rolls that are honored in their immediacy and only made sense of after the fact. Does this mean that you risk having a disjointed mess from which no pleasing story can emerge? Yes! But you also risk having a story emerge that no one could have planned, that is equally surprising and pleasing to everyone at the table.

This emergent storytelling is probably the greatest joy of the random encounter. Don't approach the encounter with, "It doesn't make sense that a goblin would be here." Instead, adopt the attitude of, "Let's figure out why this gobllin would be here." (And while you're at it, use that same attitude toward books you read and movies you see.)

A related aside: in some play cultures, the DM is considered to be someone who plans everything out and slowly reveals bits of story as rewards to the other players. As a DM, this can feel really stagnant, and it can be a lot to keep track of, and there is far less joy of surprise. Using dice at the table to introduce new elements can bring some of that fun back to the DM.

Everything I've said so far is a synthesis of dozens of rulebooks and blog posts I've read across a decade of running games, so please allow me to introduce a final element: my own experience with the joy of random tables.

In 2014, when 5E was coming out to great demand on the backs of Stranger Things, Critical Roll, and The Adventure Zone, I started running a campaign for friends and coworkers. There was no developed play culture around 5E at the time, no cottage industry of third-party developers. So in running it, I was drawing on what I had been reading for years: old-school roleplaying and story games.

So I prepped my starting town (doing way more work that I would today), including random encounter tables for the area. And when the players were out searching for some ruins and getting lost west of town, I rolled a random encounter. It was some gnomes. All the gnomes here had escaped from a gnome hell for greed, so they weren't exactly kind. And their reaction roll was just south of neutral, so they were a little surly.

A bad screenshot of my "west of the town of Wall" encounter tables.

They led the players to the ruins and waited, trying to trap them inside after they'd been run down by the undead inside. But the players overcame the trap and told the gnomes off. (They didn't want to get in another fight after going through the ruins; more emergent storytelling.) So the gnomes ran off, but they would remember this.

Flash forward to a different session. In the main mega-dungeon under the town, the players were exploring a new area. Another random encounter: the devil of gnome hell! It was a giant mole with masses of earthworms for limbs, and it was searching for its escaped prisoners. It threatened to kill the PCs unless they gave it a magical item. So Pepper the elf gave up his winged sword, which he'd found in the aforementioned ruins. He loved that sword.

And here's where it all comes together. The gnomes were trying to settle the land west of town, but the humans had a fort there. The players were going to that fort to get some information about the faerie realms. How could I show this situation in a way that would, as succinctly as possible, illustrate the tension while giving the players a choice on who to join? Well, the gnomes would be attacking the fort. This normally wouldn't be much of a battle…but the vengeful gnome from the ruins had made a deal with the gnome devil for power. And now he was wielding Pepper's sword, using it to fly over the fort walls and attack.

Pepper was pissed! He wanted his sword back! The other players were more interested in figuring out a way to stop the ongoing conflict between gnomes and humans. And the gnomes were split between wanting to peacefully settle their new land and get revenge on the players for driving them off from the ruins. Who would prevail?

I hadn't planned a story, but I had created a situation a story was likely to emerge based on the players' actions and the results of the dice.

Conclusion

This isn't me saying this is the only way to play. It's not the only way I play. In a short one-shot or a tightly paced, emotional game, I would never use random encounters. But they can be fun! And they (and their associated suite of rules) can address some of the issues that lead to DM burnout and genre predictability.

If you find me in the wilderness, I will fight you.

[taylor-titmouse]

Have you seen the post going around talking about diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm? Made me think about some of your other posts you've made talking about your work. I love what you do and how you portray kinky stories and Situations happening to your characters, and I think the other post talks about it in a way that explains it well, too. (For reference, this post: https://www.tumblr.com/tearlessrain/745444720398958592/please-help-me-i-used-to-be-pretty-smart-but-im)

(clickable link, though i just reblogged it too)

yes! yes! this person gets it!! i wrote about this idea previously myself but diegetic/non-diegetic is a great term to describe the difference between bdsm-as-bdsm and bdsm-as-narrative. it makes me NUTS that people don't get that fictional dubcon/noncon/whatevercon is functionally no different from a fantasy existing in the heads of a bdsm couple playing pretend. it's all pretend!! the bdsm couple is you and the book. the consent is the reader opening the book, the safeword is closing it!

god the bit about it being really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiating safewords and shit. i hate it, i will never write it. i am not here to read a manual on how to do bdsm so that i know the author is totally responsible. i'm here to see a babe get GOT by GOBLINS

[choccy-milky]

A few months back, I asked if it was okay to write using Clora and Seb. Finished the work - thought I'd lost it on my hard drive and a virus scan located it.

Not sure if it's sad or happy, but the basic premise of it is Clora getting frustrated/upset at Sebastian and Sebastian comforting her, Sebastian getting upset at a predicament Clora's in and Clora comforting him, and them both getting frustrated/upset and having to comfort each other.

If you'd rather I didn't post it, that's fine too, but just wanted to test the waters and double check that you'd be okay with it if I gifted it to you via AO3, or see if you wanted a sneak peak of it before posting it.

OMG im so happy you were able to find it and recover the work you did!!😭🙏 AND YES OF COURSE YOU CAN POST IT AAA I CANT WAIT TO READ IT!! you can DM it to me first if you want, but i also dont mind if you post it straight away on ao3!! IM LOOKING FORWARD TO IT SM AAARGHHHA💖💖💖IT SOUNDS ANGSTY WE LOVE THE HURT/COMFORT I HOPE MY HEART CAN HANDLE IT🥺💖💖TY AGAIN FOR USING CLORA AND SEB AND TAKING THE TIME TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT THEM😭

@sunshine-goblin AAA THANK YOU!!! im honoured its your fav fanfic AND ALSO THE LONGEST YOUVE READ BAHAHAA fr, when you say its as long as four books in lotr it rly makes me realize how insane i am😃👍 aw IM GLAD I COULD INSPIRE YOU TO DRAW MORE AND WRITE AS WELL😭 I was curious so i creeped you and everyone go look at their HL blog @sunshines-legacy your MC is so cute and so is your art🥹💖 as for tips on writing a longfic and brainstorming and motivation and stuff, my motivation was my brainrot and unhappiness with the canon story/ending LMAOO, and looking at the story of the game and playing around with what i was unhappy with/what i WISHED could have happened instead, was a lot easier than just coming up with plotlines from scratch. but something i highly recommend is just OUTLINING and making a timeline, one of my fav parts of writing was just putting on some cafe ambience in the background and doing stream of conscious type word documents where id just barf ideas and then worry about making it pretty later....like look at how many versions of the same chapter i have BAHAHA or like different renditions bc i couldnt decide if id wanna keep a scene/what order, so id make a timeline and keep smoothing things out until i was happy with it and whatnot

brainstorming is defs my fav part of the process and the most helpful part to me. just getting a blank document and writing stuff you want to happen without worrying about how it connects to the story, and then a lot of the times as i was doing that id just keep going and it would kinda tie itself together/id come up with a solution as i was writing / once the ideas kept flowing. so basically : TIMELINES AND OUTLINES I VERY MUCH RECOMMEND, but very low pressure and barebones ones. for example, this is what my outlines/brainstorming look like

its honestly just me talking to myself LMAO, and a lot of the time ill interject and be like "OH YEAH AND THEN THIS CAN HAPPEN" as the ideas come while im writing BAHAHA. its a super fun process and honestly nothing feels better than just getting hit with that flash of inspo, and since its all very low effort theres no pressure to actually write well and its just a chill fun time AND GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR OWN PROCESS / WRITING💖💖💖it can be difficult but HOPE U HAVE FUN TOO💖💖

@a-little-lysdexic WAIT REALLY?? LMFAOO OMG THATS CRAZY....SAME BRAIN...🤝🤝...that would trip me up so much if i were you omg BAHHAHA but aside from having similar tastes in names, IM GLAD YOU LIKE MY ART AS WELL, TYY💖💖💖

THANK YOUUU im glad you're liking it!!! and that its taking over your life BAHAHA💖💖 the video you're thinking of was by @silverxstardust for chapter 13 of my fic, and you can watch the video here! (AND TY AGAIN TO SILVERXSTARDUST FOR DOING THIS!)

[autistichalsin]

Two questions because I like hearing your thoughts:

What do you think Halsin's biggest flaw is?

And

Is there anything in his writing that you just don't vibe with / would like to see changed?

So, I am going to put two here for his flaws, just because what I perceive to be Halsin's biggest flaw is something a lot of people don't like being stated as such, because it's an extension of something that can actually be a good thing.

Halsin's biggest overall flaw: he is self-sacrificing to his own detriment, which also results in him brushing off his own pain/trauma. As a result of this, he also has a habit of developing hero-worship for those care for him the way he cares for others, I.E. the player.

Halsin's biggest flaw that can't be seen as an extension of a good trait: He can't control his basal instincts/urges very well. Not only can he not control his bear (the transformation into it and his actions in that shape) very well, but he also has lines in combat that rival the Dark Urge's in bloodlust; "let our enemies' corpses nourish the ground!" "May the carrion birds grow fat on you!"

Things I would change about his writing:

So... Most of the things I would change, I would not because I have a problem with them, but because I'm tired of others complaining about them (I.E. make his flirting banter with SH in act 3 only trigger if you're polymanced, make the Drow orgy start only at your invitation instead of his suggestion, etc). The highest on this list for me is the Minthara ultimatum (which still hasn't been implemented). I would like to see them make Halsin's case stronger; point out the Absolute still hunts him, make it clear how much Minthara triggers his trauma, let him talk more about things that happened to him in the goblin camp because of her- with her continued lack of remorse (she never even as much as says she sympathizes with what happened to the Grove) helping make his case. Also, make it more clear that what happened to the Tieflings was the result of this (because this scene was written to only trigger if the Rite of Thorns happened); show how haunted by their deaths Halsin is. People wrongly think Halsin had no stakes in this argument, when the truth is that they just didn't remind the audience what they were.

For things I actually would want changed... well, I'll put that in two categories, the things that could be changed while keeping the game mostly the same, and then my "pie in the sky" things.

Realistic changes:

-Halsin's post-Drow dialogue is tweaked just a bit more to fix a line from Tav that comes off as condescending, and to clarify some things (did Halsin's captors' house fall out of favor, or were they attacked by a lower house that wanted to unseat them? Halsin says both, but these are two different things in Drow culture). Maybe the house and the house that wiped them out get named, as well.

-While Halsin's act 3 arc was good considering how little time there was, I feel that there needed to be more highlighting his transition from nature-focused to people-focused. We see his anguish at the failures of the city, and the early stages of him dreaming for better, but I wish we could have had more of a bridge to him deciding his commune is the answer. I'd like to see a scene with Halsin adopting Yenna/inviting her to the commune once he starts it, a scene with Halsin's decision to found his commune and inviting the first group of refugees, that sort of thing.

-Make a quick tweak to That infamous party banter that makes it clear chimeras pass the Harkness Test in this setting so that people stop using it as justification to claim Halsin fucked the boar at the Grove (yes this is a thing). Or cut it entirely, I guess.

-Go back to the planned concept where Halsin's scar was in fact from a battle. It being from a shebear doesn't inherently bother me, but I liked the idea of it being a reminder of how badass Halsin is.

-I wish we had more lines reminding us what an amazing healer Halsin is past act 1.

-Fix a few of Halsin's lines so that he sounds as concerned about the Shadow Druids' influence as he should. He brushes them off a bit too easily, especially in the line patch 6 added where you could show him the note sent to Kagha.

-For the love of God, let Halsin get pissed off if you as a Drow Tav/Durge threaten to sell him back into slavery. Make him break up with you on the spot, maybe even leave the party- and if not, lose a huge chunk of approval at least. Players who make Astarion bite Araj rightfully get chewed out- Halsin deserves the same. It doesn't have to be rage, either; it could be hurt, or fear, or some combination of the above. But please, a line that evil deserves something more. They would never pull that on any other character.

Pie in the sky things that would probably never happen but I wish they would:

-After Halsin's Drow confession, we get a chance to suggest to him he might want a turn as a consensual submissive, complete with a sex scene of the player dominating Halsin.

-A scene with Astarion and Halsin bonding over their shared trauma.

-Reintroduce parts of the original concept for the Shadow Curse plot. I don't have to have the Halsin accidentally killing Isobel bit, but I liked the plot with the Promise dagger and him using you as a beacon to find you once he goes in the portal. It was so romance-coded; I'd argue it was even more romantic than Halsin's actual romance plot!

-Let us watch Halsin win over the orphans going to his commune. For pure self-indulgence reasons, make at least one of them a baby.

-A resist scene for Durges. I don't care if it would always be platonic, and yes, go ahead and give Minthara one too. Just please?

-MOST OF ALL, Origin Halsin.

[waywardqueen411]

A New Legacy - Hogwarts Legacy x Harry Potter Crossover - Part 1

Summary:

After a rather brutal encounter with Ranrok's loyalists, the Hero of Hogwarts finds herself falling through time and space entering a world that's almost home, but not quite. Of course there's nothing else to do aside from adapt, improvise and overcome.

Part 2

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

A/N: Hi there! I'm new to posting on tumblr, but I've just finished Hogwarts Legacy and I need to write this fic. Please reblog and let me know your thoughts!

Warnings: Violence, Major character death, the tiniest bit of angst, spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader, Ominis Gaunt x Female!Reader (more to be added on as the story progresses)

The camp was one of the bigger one's as of late. Almost as big as one of the mining sites. You wondered how you'd let such a large following build up, mentally scolding yourself. You considered it a truly lucky coincidence that thus far, it seemed that Ranrok hadn't confided his true plans to any of his commanders - but you couldn't be certain that knowledge of the truth of ancient magic died with Ranrok amongst his ranks.

You hoped that Ranrok was selfish enough to have never told anyone the truth.

A moment later, you quickly spotted your chance to attack, as both the guards lowered their weapons for a cup of tea. You were about to step forward, disillusionment charm and all, when you heard the sound of twigs snapping behind you.

Silently, you turned around but saw no one. There was a strange glint, however, as light reflected off of something that wasn't there.

You sighed softly, backing up slowly until you were next to the disillusioned figure, before pulling both of your best friends to hide behind a nearby bush.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing here?" you asked in a whisper-yell. Sebastian held his hands up in surrender.

"I swear, it wasn't on purpose," he replied.

"Its true," Ominis said in a hushed voice. "Sebastian convinced me to come see him in the woods when we stumbled across the goblin camp."

You glared at them both, but felt a pang of sympathy run through you. The relationship between Ominis and Sebastian had been strained at best, and you were almost glad to see them together.

"He's telling the truth, Snidget," you smiled softly at the nickname - something Seb had taken to call you whilst the two of you practiced quidditch in the late hours of the night.

"Snidget?" Ominis repeated, clearly holding back his laughter.

"Piss off, Omi," you mumbled, but the smile on his face did not dissipate.

"Enough talking," Sebastian said, blushing faintly. "Are we going to sit around and hide, or are we going to kick some goblin butt?"

Ominis and Sebastian both look determined. You sighed softly.

"Something strange is happening here," you said and they shot each other identical looks of concern, "These goblins have been gathering for weeks, ever since I - ever since Ranrok's death. I think they're planning something - something that would continue his work."

"Well we can't have that now, can we?" Ominis asked, his wand held out steadily. You sighed.

"I don't suppose there's any convincing the two of you to go back to the common room," you said, shaking your head.

"We're in this together," Ominis responded, smiling a little. It was a phrase you'd grown fond of hearing, before the three of you would sneak off on your usual adventures, when trouble would undoubtedly be afoot. It was something you hadn't heard in a long time.

"Alright then," you said, insanely appreciative of your friends, "but keep your guard up. Something is wrong here. I can feel it,"

"We'll be careful," Ominis said before Sebastian could let out another quick comment. You squeezed his forearm in thanks, before going into mission mode.

"Wait for my signal," you said, before directing your friends out. The three of you split up, so that each of you were attacking from a different direction.

You walked forward slowly. There were nine guards - excessive, but handleable, especially with your friends near by. You silently removed the charm before standing up and walking towards the three cloest to you.

"Lovely night tonight," you commented, grabbing the attention of all the goblins on guard. "Confringo!" you cast in the moment it took them to realize what was going on. Sebastian and Ominis removed their charms immediately and began their attack.

Spells flew everywhere. A Leviosa from Sebastian shot past your ear. You ducked and rolled past the attack of a goblin, breaking his shield with your own Protego. Ominis shot a blasting curse. You felt the heat from it against your back, You shot curse after curse. Three goblins became two. Two became one. You felt Sebastian's Glacius brush past your arm. Goblins attacked all around you.

You cast one last Incendio and the woods went silent.

"Everyone alright?" you asked, gasping for breath slightly. Sebastian nodded, and Ominis gave you a thumbs up from where he was keeled over in front of the body of a dead goblin.

You looked to Sebastian again. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and he had a small gash on his lip. "You're hurt," you said softly, walking over to him and brushing over the injury gently with your thumb. Sebastian winced, his brown eyes meeting yours.

"I'm fine," he said, reaching into his pocket and taking a small sip of healing potion. The cut vanished before your eyes and you smiled softly.

"Let's keep going," you said. "Ominis?"

"I'm ready," he said, standing upright with his wand extended. You grit your teeth and pushed past the body of the goblin in front of the gate.

The three of you encountered another two small groups of goblins once you entered. You made quick work of them, blasting and cursing until your throat was sore, before you reached the center of whatever it was the goblins were doing.

"Is everyone alright?" you asked softly, but you already knew the answer. Sebastian had been sliced by a goblin silver sword on his arm, and Wiggenweld only somewhat stemmed the bleeding. Ominis had been slashed across the face by goblin claws and didn't look like he had it in him to speak.

"Brilliant," Sebastian said, his breathing labored as he clutched onto his side. Ominis made a noise of agreement. You regretted dragging your friends into this.

"I'm so sorry," you said, huffing. You had been sliced in the leg.

"Let's get what we came for and leave," Sebastian suggested.

"Agreed,"

At the very least, when you pushed past the door into what seemed to be the main area, there were no goblins on duty. It seemed as though the three of you had caught them by surprise.

"Alohamora," you muttered and pushed past the doorway.

Immediately, you gasped as you walked though what could only be a portal. You friends followed suit and you felt yourself being pushed forward into an unknown room.

"Lumos," you cast when you found your footing. The moment you did, you almost dropped your wand.

"That sound," Ominis said, "It sounds like-"

"Clocks," you muttered, looking around at giant room.

"Not clocks," Sebastian said, worry filling his voice, "We have to get out of here, now."

"I don't understand," you said, walking towards the beautiful gold clocks and hourglasses, "They're beautiful," you felt almost pulled in.

"Those aren't clocks, those are time turners!" Ominis said, grabbing a hold of you and pulling you away from the golden hourglass you were about to touch.

A loud bang resounded in the room. A massive explosion rumbled through the floors. You and Ominis went flying across the room.

"You again!" you heard the voice of a goblin who looked vaguely familiar. One of Ranrok's commanders. "You'll pay for what you did. You and your stupid friends!"

Your head was ringing from the explosion. You looked to where Sebastian laid on the floor a good few feet away from you, barely conscious. "Sebastian!" you called out, trying to run towards him, but Ominis held you back.

"We have to go!" he demanded, the walls crashing in around him.

"Go?" the goblin asked. "You won't be going anywhere," he said. You turned to him. The entire room was crumbling around you.

"Please," you begged, "You cant want to die in here with us! Help us!" you said desperately.

"The only ones dying in here will be you three!" The goblin shouted, pulling out some kind of dagger and throwing it towards the center of the room, to the largest hourglass.

"Sebastian!" You cried out, reaching out towards him. But it was too late. The dagger landed on the center hourglass and shattered it, sand pouring out and directly on to Sebastian. A powerful magic filled the room and you felt as though you were going to be suffocated.

"No!" you cried out, tears streaming down your face. Ominis held on tightly to you as you watched the power destroy Sebastian's body, blasting him like lightening - like your own powers. "Sebastian," you whispered. Ominis squeezed you so tightly you almost couldn't breathe.

"You're next!" The goblin screamed. you looked to him and felt nothing but pure rage fill your body. Your hands shook and you saw nothing but the goblin in front of you. Suddenly you understood what Sebastian meant when he first taught you the Unforgivables.

"Avada Kadavra!" you cast out, and the goblin dropped dead.

"No," Ominis cried, but it was too late. You tried to cast another spell. Protego, something, but your wand sparked and failed.

The sand spun around you, enveloping your and Ominis in a storm.

"I'm sorry, Omi," you said, tears streaming down your face silently. He held you even tighter. "I never meant - for any of this-"

"It's alright," he said.

A moment later, both his and your wands disappeared into the sand storm. You gasped, reaching into the sand. It felt like holding fire.

"I'm so sorry," you cried out. Ominis smiled slightly. His eyes looked so beautiful, even in the tragic moment. He held you close and wiped the tears from your cheeks.

"Like I said," he whispered, "We're in this together," he pulled you into his chest and you felt the ground disappear from beneath your feet.

This was it.

You felt a warmth in your chest then, and you looked down to see black sputters enveloping you through the sands. "What-" Ominis tried to ask, pulling away but you immediately pulled him back.

"Ancient magic," You managed to say, and your grip on Ominis tightened. You felt your magic burst out of you, trying to protect you, trying to push Ominis away, but you resisted.

'He can't die,' you thought to yourself. 'My magic must protect him. He's a part of me too. Just as Sebastian was,'

The last thing you saw was ancient magic filling your vision as you held on to Ominis for dear life before darkness took over.

----

Part 2

Let me know what you think!

[fumifooms]

Do you think Kui retconned Kabru and Rin as a couple? It seems so strange how Kabru treats her if he views her as a sister

Rin & Kabru relationship analysis

Skip to the keep reading cut if you only want my Kabru & Rin thoughts. Tldr of the preamble is that I don't think Kui retconned anything but I don't think Kabru and Rin were ever meant to end up as a couple, but that doesn't mean that there's no way anything deeper or more complex is happening here. Under the keep reading is my pretty full analysis of Rin & Kabru, which I'll still cover in my full Kabru party analysis eventually.

1) People do debate about wether or not Kui changed her approach to a lot of her characters halfway through the story, Kabru, Thistle and Chilchuck to name the biggest ones. I've heard it be an explanation for the shapeshifters even, that it's a meta joke on how characters' old behavior and appearances have now become out of character. I personally believe nothing has been retconned, that all the characters are coherent and, perhaps more importantly, that regardless of later intent the early writing makes the characters more interesting and layered. Not that the idea of there being or needing retcons has no merit at all, for example forest goblins are in-world common knowledge to be found on the second floor, but we also learn later that goblins is a slur against half-foots, and knowing Dunmeshi's philosophy about humanoid monsters it's odd that they never ever come up again if they exist. The anime -and iirc adventurer's bible- kept there being goblins on the second floor of the dungeon, so much like Thistle's early appearance I have to believe it's a part of canon that's not meant to be retconned, ie that's canon and accepted as such, with some degree of intent. We do know that the climax of the manga was going to happen differently with what Kui was planning in the earlier manga days, with demon king dunlord Laios, too. Regardless of all this, for better or worse we hae what we have now and we must take it all into account as the whole picture of the work's story, world and cast- starting to pick and choose what's actually canon from the canon story is just giving up and letting the world burn lol.

2) Kui is fearless when it comes to presenting us with complex layered relationships without feeling the need to explain themselves or offering full closure. Marcille canonically sees Falin as a friend. Laios' succubus was undebatably Marcille. Mickbell sees Kuro as family. Were the touden parents bad parents? Is Maizuru? Is Milsiril? Ambiguity in Dunmeshi's case is a feature and not a bug, and perhaps this short story of Kui's shows why she prefers not to cast moral judgement as a narrator on various acts and characters. There's this very neutral approach to her writing where the cast does its own thing and she just tells us what happens, and as I said closure isn't a given. I've talked about the matter of wether or not Chilchuck's wife accepts him back before, something that bothers and lingers for a lot of readers, but an example that haunts me is Mickbell and Kuro. It's explicitly stated that Mickbell continues to "still being worked hard by Mickbell" after canon, and though we have one hint of how it might get better with Kuro learning common slowly but surely, there's no 1) conclusions as to what their relationship is exactly and 2) discouraging or encouraging framing for it, there's chiding but ultimately wether the relationship is more healthy than it is unhealthy and more salvageable than unsalvageable and worth it isn't answered. What happens will happen, and we just have to come to an answer that satisfies us on our own :') Or hey, how Falin only starts finding herself at the post-canon! It offers a nice end to her arc in canon of having a very malleable unpresent identity, but it starts another of self-exploration growth that is left open-ended. So, it's not because a relationship feels wrong or unfinished that it wasn't well-written or intended.

3) Kui doesn't lie but characters can. Characters can be unaware of things or even wrong, even with their own feelings, like Chilchuck saying he doesn't care about the party etc etc, or more widely Marcille thinking orcs are scum, or people at large in Dunmeshi believing in a modified truth of history, a version of it without the demon. These can be wrong objectively, but furthermore they can be disproved by the text, the way that Dunmeshi shows us orcs can be communicated with and peaceful etc etc and every character's racism ends up narratively or implicitly discouraged and disproven, kobolds included. The story is told by us through the characters and their actions, so it's their flawed perspective and incomplete information we have.

So, okay. Relationships are very complex but Kui doesn't tell lies, there's no info or moments that really have been retconned. The reader is left to make their own interpretation of canon.

... OKAY LAST TANGENT but we have to acknowledge something about canon quick too: This is gonna sounds ironic considering what I said earlier but while all extras are made to be in-character they're not all canon to the storyline, so to speak. There are sort of three types of extra comics context I can think of, there are comics set in pre or post canon, like one about the way Marcille was welcomed into Laios' party, or Falin's answer to Toshiro's proposal, which we have no reason to not believed happened in the canon timeline. Daydream Hours extras are exceptions because they're usually looser than Adventurer's bible extras, for example the comic about Milsiril visiting Kabru has a "what if" phrasing to the blurb. Then there are extras set vaguely in time that if during canon could simply happen off-screen, like Chilchuck's extra about hearing the party members going to the bathroom, a lot of monster tidbits also fit into this, which again I have no reason to assume hasn't happened. But now we get to the last type, the one set at a precise moment in canon that is impossible. My go-to example is the tidbit about werewolves, it's set during the Laios vs Lycion fight with Kabru present, and those chapters in the story had quite tight plotting, it makes no sense to consider that extra within the reality of that moment, it breaks the tone and story continuity and timespan of the scene, it can't be canon to the canon storyline. This is to say that again, although in every extra the lore is correct and characters are in-character, some extras are not "canon" to the story's timeline and can't have happened. And since it happened with one extra, that didn't have anybdisclaimer of being different than any other, it does put other extras' canonity into question a bit too. Ultimately, what we get in the actual manga is above everything else in both relevance and credibility. This is about extra comics, but I don't call into question all the extra info through text we get in character blurbs and about the Dunmeshi world within the Adventurer's Bible at all, especially since it was spexifically made to inform us more about canon. This is all just something to keep in mind, when talking about Dunmeshi canon.

Okay, now. In terms of rin & Kabru's relationship, as for what we see of their relationship...

The quickest summary of how they see each other:

Rin's line reflects how she follows him out of worry, thinking that his ambitious manipulating ways will fail him and get him in trouble eventually, and how that worry is out of care and love. Kabru's line... Is more ambiguous, but we'll get into it.

We don't see Kabru and Rin interact a ton, but we do see her bring her up or think of her unprompted this time, which reveals a bit of how he sees her/feels about her and what his priorities are.

He "wants to help her get away somehow", and this out of what? Duty? Charity? Care? The companionship they once shared? Sympathy, knowing how it feels like to be under inadequate care by elves? Kabru is empathetic and wants good for people, cares about people and community, is rather concerned by the greater good instead of individualistic gain etc etc, so this attention isn't necessarily uncharacteristic on its own.

What makes their bond unique is the history between them.

It's implied they spent a lot of time together growing up, which led to Rin wanting to stick with him. Perhaps as some trauma-fueled-bond hero, but in her own words mostly because she's worried he'll get into trouble if he's left alone. She expicitly loves him romantically, started presumably before canon and presumably hasn't stopped by the end of it either.

We see his priorities here. It's notable that besides Rin being the sort of by default second most important kabru party character, she's also the one he thinks of first, understandably since he knows her best. Like above, he speaks very matter-of-factly and coldly about it though, and he seems surprisingly apathetic. It's not the thought of hostages that drives him to eat those monsters and keep strong, it's the thought of learning the mystery of dungeons and how to prevent Utaya tragedies

This moment below may seem like nothing, but it's also pretty telling of their dynamic:

Rin in the moment negatively assumes he's only frivolously interested in Namari, and although Kabru doesn't shut it down instantly with a "this isn't about personal interest" he does imply clearly with "friends" that his intent isn't to woo her (the fantranslation uses the word lovers instead iirc, so the original japanese word might be more revealing. Considering how Kabru sometimes teases Rin and provokes her jealousy on purpose like with the mermaids, it's not impossible the word was an euphemism). Rin ambiguously disbelieves this and/or disapproves. It does feel like Kabru keeps this sort of persona air when answering her, so it's not entirely hard to understand- it's true he was keeping his real reasons and intent secret: only later on does he give his party the "Laios party" spiel and mention Namari was part of it.

This can also be seen as an example of the chaperone "big sister" effect of her nagging, and of her recurring bad faith towards him. Rin chastises Kabru for behavior and stances that are understandable, like telling him he shouldn't just smile and gloss things over when being belittled, but she does have the habit of being easily jealous and lashing out because of it. But again, if you see it from her stance, your childhood friend always thinks he an handle everything alone and acts like he has the fate of the world resting solely on his shoulders, and he keeps shutting you out and leaving you to guess for his intentions, and being someone under his leadership on top of a friend makes this more alarming and frustrating. Loving him as you do, knowing him for as long as you have, you'd wish Kabru was open with you and that'd create frustration.

Yet despite everything there's trust here. There's familiarity and a degree of comfort, even when Kabru always refuses to fully open up. A promise from Kabru means something to her, it's worth something, she does trust his word and morals even when she knows he can be dishonest. She's used to Kabru, and through thick and thin she wants to be there to support him in his goals and look after him.

But below, his priorities are reaffirmed. He literally pushes her out of his way in that first page, to get to laios who represents his goals, and then figuratively by brushing her off. I think it's very interesting that the look her gives her feels alike to the look he gives Laios shortly before, those sort of empty eyes. They make me think it's his mask-on "business mode" look, and when it's a matter of business things have gotten serious and he will not entertain irrelevant matters. Like Rin's feelings. My first instinct's always been that his look at her meant a resounding "shut up", but it's true it could also easily be a "come on, catch up", especially since he goes on to explain that they mustn't have meant harm in the first place.

It's not only the look that's cold though, because you'll remember, "catching the culprits" was the promise Kabru made to her, the one she trusted that made her agree to their party's plan at all in the first place. Even though the phrasing wasn't precise on that front, by giving up on confronting or punishing Laios' party at all he's breaking his promise, and doing so very dismissively.

It's the distance of it, in how cold he is to her, how distant from him and pushed away by him she feels. It seems to say that yes, the teases he does are meaningless bones he throws at her, the moments they share are below him and below his goals, this is what's important to him and this is how Kabru wants to treat her when push comes to shove. With harsh chiding of his own and then calm explanations, as if while she's heartfelt with him he's indifferent with her.

Although, like how in the end he doesn't want to kill Laios despite it being the safe choice, there's much to say on wether or not he would actually throw her under the bus in the end even if cornered. He always steels himself for the worst, but he's also more talk than bite when it comes to truly being effortlessly ruthless and he prefers to find peaceful and humane solutions. In the end though, the hostage situation more or less tips the scale both ways, even if it'd be easy to say he was simply hiding his concern.

Okay and now to quicken things up this is where I start dividing interpretations as "good faith" as in believing Kabru's explanation that he has a strictly sisterly attachment to her, vs "bad faith" where there is potential for considering romantic interest on his end.

To start with the least questionable:

"We're talking about how cute your smile is, Rin." Good faith: He's complimenting his friend, wants her to not feel insecure, wants her to feel more confident and likeable desirable, because he's nice or because he cares about her. It does make her happy in the end, after all. Knowing it would, he might even have said it just to demonstrate his point to Mickbell with her reaction. Bad faith: You know she likes you, isn't this weird to go out of your way to say? He's not lying exactly, but they were moreso talking about her attitude around smiling, and he could just as easily have deflected or said "Oh, nothing much". Bringing up her appearance or how cute she is could also have made her self-conscious, she's not really the kind that likes public attention- but he knows her the best and it shows, after all. In the end, it doesn't sound like something you'd just tell someone you know pines after you that you want to turn down or discourage from pursuing you.

"When she furrows her brows, I assume she's smiling inside" is also weird to me. Sure she does have this weird situation with emoting going on, but claiming Rin is never angry is factually wrong and always dismissing that anger feels belittling. But this approach to reading Rin and interacting with her would explain why he always teases her, I suppose.

But this is kinda what I mean when I say they are close, in a way, the way he knows how she is with smiling, the way he's comfortable saying things like this to her despite not being someone you just have to interact with occasionally. There IS familiarity there IS intimacy, it's just odd and inconsistently applied.

Kissing her: Good faith: This is an urgent dangerous situation and kissing her is the quickest and most direct way to shut her up, which in his situation he does not have the luxury of time or ressources to think through solutions better. We don't fully know the details of incantation magic's workings, had he slapped his hand over her mouth maybe her lips could have continued moving and chanting so she could have still finished her spell, compared to kissing where it stop both lip movement and sounds from coming out. Plus, kissing her has the added effect of heavily shocking her. In a 'what if' bluray bonus comic Kabru's party faces shapeshifters and he suggests everyone get naked as a quick solution, so it is implied there too that physical intimacy and privacy aren't something he puts above practicality. Bad faith: Gag her. Hell, shove your finger down her throat. 'Master of human anatomy and psychology' here decided he had no other choice than kissing her. In that 'what if' extra I mentioned, Kabru did find another much less practical way to deal with the shapeshifters and went through with that instead, knowing no one would be happy getting naked. Also "It's too bad she looks like a monster", hello what? Neutral: Perhaps he chose, because either way in any case he did choose to, to kiss her precisely because he's mr. master of psychology, because knowing it was Rin he decided kissing was the best approach specifically because it's her, knowing it'd shock her etc etc, regardless of it being tactful or not or if it'd hurt her or even encourage her love for him.

"It's too bad she looks like a monster." Good faith: It's a neutral enough statement that he could mean a couple of different things with it, including wishing he could see her reaction better or speak with her more easily. If we go with the "I wish I wasn't kissing her as a fishman" angle, well, he really hates monsters to a traumatized degree so pseudoincest may be preferrable over monsterfucking. Fair enough. Bad faith: The fantranslation translates it as "it's a shame" instead of "it's too bad", which does lend itself to a less neutral reading, but wether that's reliable and telling or not would depend on the original japanese sentence of course. He could have meant "I wish she looked like anything else but a monster", but "I wish she (at least?) looked like herself when I kissed her" is the most direct interpretation, and then, well. That's pretty damning. To me it sort of feels odd that'd have been the phrasing if that was the case, especially since Kabru especially has noticeable reactions to monsters like shaking, horrified faces and dramatic thoughts. This is his internal thoughts and "Too bad she looks like a monster" feels very casual- the same type of casual that he has when deflecting not being interested in Namari to Rin, aka him being more playful. "I wish she looked like herself when I had to kiss her", like man. Okay. There's a lot of leeway you can give him but it's still odd.

Good faith: ??? I do struggle with this one. A friend of mine has the interpretation that this is an epic own of sorts, that by "always like this" Kabru meant "unable for me to hear you" so he likes not hearing what she says. Reardless, wether his assumption is accurate or not, Kabru is taunting/teasing when he says "look at me, not the mermaids", to what could have very well been just Rin noticing his staring and telling him to focus, and "You'd be cute if you were always like this", and like always he's very casual as he does it, says it like it's nothing, so it could mean nothing deeper. Bad faith: Why do you have to say any of this, what do you think it accomplishes, this counts as flirting in most books. It doesn't make her mood better, it doesn't shut her up, so I can only imagine Kabru simply enjoys doing this, it entertains him for one reason or another. Why do you keep calling her cute why is this a pattern that is forming. Neutral: Presumably, Rin is also unable to hear him since they all wear the earplugs. This would mean that beyond his gesturing, his words aren't meant for her to actually hear.

So.

My honest reaction:

Kabru what is this............. Huh. Kabru. What do you mean

The issue

It's less intimidating when analyzing each piece of interaction one by one to slowly form a wider picture, but it's still quite the puzzle. Because ultimately, what he feels for her aside, he is both pushing her away and encouraging her crush on him. He is both keeping her out and leading her on. He is both trying to keep a distance and throwing her bones to latch onto. And huh. Why though.

He's too socially savvy not to know Rin likes him right? Right? He even teases her about being jealous. He has to. He hassss to. And then obviously he has no intent of reciprocating. Especially since he's a huge flirt with anyone and Rin makes it clear she feels jealous.

Then, it feels kinda cruel...? You don't have to flirt, or taunt her because you know she likes you, and blow her off like that without ever having a serious talk. And like I said, shove your finger in there instead of kissing her. Did he do it because he prefers her being kissed over her puking? Was it out of pity? Throwing her crumbs of attention? Is him wanting her out of the elves' grasp just pity? Is it soooo easy for Kabru to tease her and kiss her despite having no feelings of his own, borderline mocking how deeply she loes him and what it means to her? Is doing all this "for her sake" too, like bringing her along was? Just. Free Rin. Free Rin of this.

In the end, what side of "does Kabru like Rin or not" you fall on pretty much depends on wether you favor a consistent "good faith" reading or a consistent "bad faith" reading, which impression you got while reading. But I hope I was able to show that both sides have reasons to think it and both are coherent interpretations of canon, neither are just being dense or difficult for the sake of it. A Kabru interpretation differs almost person to person. Personally I think the ambiguity itself is telling, which is why I usually land with a weird ambiguous situationship characterisation with them, they're a third secret thing and Kabru's feelings for her are complicated imo. He doesn't love her but he doesn't not love her etc. Dungeon Meshi largely lets the reader come up with their own interpretations of details, Kui herself said interpreting characters however is readers' freedom, and the story also avoids romance in general.

Although, there's debate as to wether he even leads her on at all, and personally I think it's pretty undeniable regardless of his intent, if anything even just going by effect.

All I can safely say is that this is not the behavior of someone smartly turning someone down.

Potential 'why's

BUT you could almost say he's purposefully trying to hurt her by being jokingly flirty and casual about it all, which could be to push her away and discourage her from pursuing him, wether it be for her sake or his own. It is a ship post, but I explore this stance a bit in my previous kabrin post if you're interested and unafraid of shippy brainstorming.

Or, inversely, maybe to him leading her on is a way to spare her feelings. Maybe he feels guilty about her liking him, or maybe he feels like he has to repay her somehow. Where his behavior when teasing her in early canon is rather provoking, most often I'd call his demeanor towards her placating if anything. We do see that Kabru prefers letting people down easy, except when shit is serious in the dungeon I guess, and he tries not to rattle people.

Personally, my favorite niche reading is I think it's his way of avoiding confrontation. He doesn't want to lose her, so he gives her just enough hope to hold onto so she'll keep following him, unknowing that Rin follows him out of a sense of duty of her own rather than romantic hope, because he always underestimates people's like of him like Laios does, assumes that people like him less than they seem because even when they do it's a version of him that's tailored to be likable. So he does this to keep the status quo going and keep her interested without having to reciprocate or commit.

I do think he also takes her for granted a bit. "Whenever she frowns I imagine it's a smile instead" what are you talking about. Like I said earlier, it feels weirdly dismissive and belittling to treat her anger as if it was something else, even assuming it to be joy- and there's merit to calling the anger Rin often shows a misdirected feeling, because yes, it's out of worry and care and love and she has a hard time emoting outside of a harsh-seeming scope etc, but is this what's going on here? His words leave me equally intrigued and concerned.

And like, her caring anger coupled by her nagging and scolding and looking after him unconditionally, I'm sure she does frustrate him sometimes and makes her feel stifled especially with his background at Milsiril's, making the big sister comparison understandable... ... BUT THEN WHY LEAD HER ON.

What he could feel

Okay so first of. "She sort of feels like how it'd be like to have a big sister" and "I see her as a sister, i strictly see her as if we shared family ties and she was the blood of my blood" are different. Kabru being like "Man, I wished she looked like herself when I had to kiss her" does not feel like a brother-sister thing to me, personally.

But hey, going with the opposite angle too- "She's like a sister to me" can be an easy shorthand to say "I care about you but i don't see you romantically or sexually at all" and it can be "you are deeply important to me and our bond would remain no matter the distance or time we are apart" and even "I can't imagine my life without you (no romo)". In many languages like french, the word soulmate instead literally translates as 'sister soul', as in a twin soul etc etc- a husband and a wife too are family. This is to say that both familial love and romantic love can run very deep, with a similar intensity just in a different nature, platonic or romantic. Kabru doesn't necessarily feel very strongly towards Rin even with the sister angle, but what i'm saying is that if it isn't just a catchphrase to let Rin down easy, wether something he would tell Rin or just something he tells himself, then it's not entirely out of the question Kabru would mix up the nature of that affection he feels for her. Maybe being childhood friends, he thinks it makes sense for it to be what he feels for her. I don't think this is necessarily farfetched because we see that Kabru neglects his own needs heavily for the sake of his goals, he doesn't recognizes or acknowledges his needs for social connections or things like sleeping, cooking and keeping his living quarters orderly. I think it's in character for him to dismiss outright that he could be in love with someone, and even for him to suppress it, because he can't let anything be more important to him than preventing more Utaya tragedies. If you subscribe to the idea that Kabru wanted to be Laios' friend at the back of his mind, this is in line with that.

Regardless of the "truth"/intent, I agree Kabru treating 'his sister' Rin the way he did in canon is really mega major weirdo of him though.

He sees her as a sister, or he believes he does. With a romantic angle, it could mean: Denial, repression, having a bond that feels as deep and immutable. Leading her on because: wanting her near but still pushing her away, being interested and scared to admit it, thinking he shouldn't let himself have this, not interested but still wanting the safety net of her.

Again with my own interpretation, I think he loves her the way one loves a safety net. What I and others may mean when we say that we think Kabru doesn't love her but he also doesn't not love her. I think this is why he's both taking her for granted and caring, dismissive and considerate, her "brother figure" but also the guy who will flirt with her without a second thought. A safety net the way one is comforted by a big sister mayhaps, who's disapproving yet always unconditionally there to help. But family and comfort are so closely tied together, it's unsurprising they get entangled sometimes, a lot of behaviors can be seen as both romantic and familial and it's just a matter of the facts and perspective because in the end what they are both is loving- and canonically, Rin loves Kabru romantically and Kabru cares for Rin like a sister.

Conclusion

I've said before that I think you can call them each other's best friend and that that's sad, and I stand by it. I think it's easy to argue that Rin is the one who knows Kabru best currently in his life, and the reverse is true for Kabru knowing Rin best. It's lonely, for both of them I think, Rin's kind of tough love is not working for him and Kabru is not filling Rin's emotional needs.

The reason why Kabru might feel like he has to get Rin out of the elves' grasp is because she has no one else, at least no one else that was deemed important enough to have been referred to or implied at all. And Rin calls him out for his shallow behavior and his unhealthy habits. They're close enough and weirding others around them enough that people like Mickbell notice when they heatedly do their song and dance and argue but hey, this is just another monday, and how Mickbell asumes she cleans his place up for him because that's what intuitively makes the most sense- it's the first thought, the most intuitive. Rin would do anything for Kabru and devotes herself to helping him, after all.

Reminder that this is the guy we're talking about:

I think her concern is worried tbh, he doesn't know what a DUST CLOTH is and he's pretty unhealthy, forgetting to eat and drinking to go to sleep, overworking himself. He'd easily work himself into an early grave. He neglects himself. I've said before in my Kuro x Kabru post that I think Kabru focuses so much on the bigger picture and saving the world that he forgets that he himself is important too, that he's truly special to some people, that he's even some people's hero, not just the world's, and I think to a degree it's good that Kabru has someone there to ground him and scold him when he's being thoughtless or overthinking, to try to show him that he's loved and valued, in her own way which he claims to understand so well like he does her smiles.

Kabru's a character where fan interpretations especially differ, he's hard to read when it comes to the details, so his relationship with Rin is very much a grey zone, especially when trying to precisely pin it down. I think though that it is a mistake to say that Rin isn't special to him in some shape or form.

I talk about human connections as a big theme of Dunmeshi sometimes, as this thing everyone needs but may deny themselves or deny that they do need and want, and Kabru and Rin are part of that theme, to me.

Post-canon, Rin and Kabru continue to see each other, presumably semi-regularly, which is an implication from an extra that we don't get with the other Kabru party members. They stay in touch, because what tied them together was never work but a personal tie.

This ask took long af to write up but it's gonna make my Kabru party analysis easier later yay. Little preview of the chart i made.

I'll remind that Mickbell and Kuro's relationship is also stated to be of a familial nature. Contradictions aren't always mistakes, people are made of them! Just like how ambiguity can be a narrative tool, complexity and dissonance can be a feature and not a bug.

[fallingrealms16]

CAITVI FIC REC LIST PART 4 (???) <3333

MUAHAHAHA part 4 at your service and it smells like horny jail to me *salutes*

HERE WE GO! Lots of short fics because I’m also currently reading the long ones for you horny bastards (ily)

Also sorry not sorry, while I read the LONGGG fics, you guys are just gonna have to deal with these smutty (some aren’t tho) short fics for now. Again, I’m not sorry and it will most definitely happen again.

Reminder‼️ pretty please read all the tags on each fic before reading as I am not responsible for any emotional trauma you may experience ^3^ (more notes at the bottom ty, ily <3)

alleyways by lgbtocha @lgbtocha

2.2K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT// +artist fanart on X/Twitter

Caitlyn and Vi take things further after the kiss, and Vi's gauntlets get involved.

Alleyways artwork by @CamSexily ^^^

more than enough by awarmspring

2.3K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

“You do know how to unbuckle this belt by now, no?” Caitlyn's accent slips out as she looks down her pants and back at Vi with a smile on her face, visibly a teasing one.

“You don't like it this way?” Vi stops in her tracks, voice slightly hesitant for a moment before she moves her hands to Caitlyn's pants.

“I'm just teasing you,” Caitlyn giggles and Vi's eyebrows relax at the view. “This way is good, too.”

Vi raises an eyebrow at her, the fond memory of their first time together making her lips curl into a tiny smile, and she retorts. “Just good?”

Caitlyn and Vi try something new.

That Night by lettucehater007 @lettucehater007

2.9K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//TEEN AND UP// pre season 2 fic

A continuation of the bedroom scene in epsiode 8, the part that we don't see on screen before Vi and Caitlyn talk to the council.

Desire Unleashed by elle_fics

5K Words // ?/? Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

Vi surprises Caitlyn with a new and experimental toy, it opens up a new world of exploration and desire for both of them. Their connection deepens as they navigate new physical and emotional boundaries, discovering hidden desires and indulging in intense moments of passion.

ASSisted Lift by Kestra711

6K Words // 2 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

Listen, Con posted a request out for artists and writers see the notes. My brain goblins supplied “You always said you could squat 3 of me, right?” “Well time to prove it Handsome” and then built a one-shot around a single line of dialogue. So here we are. Enjoy Jinx being a little shit to annoy her sister only to have it backfire when Vi and Caitlyn become inappropriate at the gym.

Overstimulated by visbutchh

6.4K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

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caitlyn’s jealousy leads them to vi making her come over and over again.

Visbutchh X^^^

your dearest fantasy (i could be a good mother) by shadowsandsouls @sapphicwiles <333

6.7K Words // ?/? Chapters // NOT COMPLETED (yet)

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“Family is the most important thing to you.”

“You are my family. That will always be enough.”

“That’s not what I meant. You want to be a mother.” It wasn’t a question.

Or

Vi and Caitlyn learn something new about each other through sex

STARTED THIS AND IT WAS COMPLETED 1/1??? You’re telling me there’s gonna be more chapters WHAT

Tastes like she might be the one by Hhehe

7K Words // 2 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT// 1st ch. bottom Vi 2nd ch. bottom Caitlyn

Caitlyn has been given a really special gift to use it with her girlfriend.

Get well by Supposedly_Ivy

9.5K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

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Vi's old habits don't fit the same way they used to, and Caitlyn isn't very good at running from herself. In other words, they fuck on a Sunday night in June, and it doesn't mean anything. Right?

BONUS SAD FICS!!!

Angst/hurt/no comfort/some~comfort (pls read 🏷️ cautiously)

Icy Fingers Round My Skin by Mango_Magpie

25K Words // 6 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT// mainly E - violence, part 1

Vi loses everything in one night, her whole life incinerated in blue smoke. Now, stuck in a concrete cell with nothing but her own monstrous thoughts for company, she’s forced to contend with a world in which her home, family, and purpose in life have all been ripped away by a monster with an amber eye. This is a multi-chapter character study, centering on the trauma Vi endures while in Stillwater.

Part 2: Ginko (post prison Vi x Cait)