#guys I love my baby tiefling

[torrikor]

mid-afternoon naptime <3

[mokeonn]

I'm playing bg3 again and trying out the honor mode (which as it turns out, might be a bad idea if you never beat the game in general, much less beat it in tactician mode) and I have been confronted with the fact that I absolutely have dnd race favoritism and it absolutely is contributing to my need for many many bg3 saves because I constantly think "hmmm I want to try playing as a deep gnome to see if I get special dialog with Barcus Wroot, the Iron hands, and the underdark" before picking Drow for the 4th time.

[wizardnuke]

i gave a major bad guy in my dnd character's backstory the last name "oretsev" and i've been trying to remember where on earth i heard that name and the answer is shadow and bone mal oretsev. hearing that name now has the side effect of my fight or flight vaguely going off in the section of my brain i have reserved for my little dnd guy

[forgeofthenine]

I love how you write about the tieflings so much! I totally fig all the headcannons and everything!

Now.. in the spirit of the heat and rut stuff.. whatnif the tieflimg ba helors arent in a rut and find their tiefling girlfriends in heat?

Like they walk in and they see their girlfriend fingering themselves or humbing a pillow whimpering and moaning and stuff.

Here's the first post of the year guys! Sorry for the short hiatus, work has been busy and my dog currently has an infection I needed to take him to the vet for (let me know if anyone wants pictures of him in his cone of shame lmao). Starting the year off right, with some heat and rut smut! I tried out a format I've used similarly before, hopefully you guys like it! Thanks for the request Nanitheart :)

The tiefling bachelors (+Halsin) when their partner is in heat

Dammon

Dammon keeps a mental note of when your last heat was and when he can expect your next one

Luckily your heat tends to line up pretty well with his own rut

However, he spends a lot of time at work away from the house and it's really not uncommon for him to come home to the surprise of you in heat

It's apparent as soon as he comes home, finding himself surrounded by your scent the moment he walks over the threshold

By time Dammons made it to your bedroom he's already in his underwear

The two of you will be finding his clothes around the house for weeks

He's already flushed when he reaches you, unbearably hard when he sees you taking advantage of the toy he'd gotten you a while ago

The sound of blood rushing through your ears deafens you to anything else, eyes closed as you arch your back and try to find yet another release. You'd been stuck there all afternoon, writhing in your sheets, and had to resort to the dildo your lover had gifted you. In his absence you'd soon grown bored with just fingers.

A loud moan leaves you as your body trembles, legs splayed and a hand thrusting the toy as deep as possible. The way it stretched you felt good but it wasn't the same. It wasn't Dammon. Only then does your partner make himself known, voice cutting clear through your lust hazed mind.

"Oh, my darling, how long have you been like this?" Dammon asks, crawling over you on the bed. His own hand covers yours to carefully thrust the toy slowly inside you again. "Do you need me to make you feel better? Can't cum again without my help?" It's all teasing, you know it is, but an involuntary whine of his name leaves your throat as you nod.

It's not long before strong hands grip your legs and pull you forward, Dammon kneeling happily between your legs. You're about to whine again before you feel it, the firm tip of his tail brushing over your already full entrance and slipping in alongside the toy.

"Let me prepare you first, baby."

Zevlor

Zevlor keeps a calender in his private study that tracks your heats and his ruts

He actually knows when you're in heat before you do sometimes

On the odd occasion you happen to go on heat unexpectedly, he treats it like a pleasant little surprise

Another one that realises as soon as he opens the front door

Zevlors been through more then a few ruts brought on early by things like this so he's a lot less impatient

Knocks on the bedroom door before entering so he doesn't surprise you

What he wasn't expecting was to hear you already crying out for him, or to open the door and see you knuckle deep fingering yourself

It seems like it's been an eternity since the burning arousal of your heat flooded you, confining you to the plush bed you and Zevlor share. Burying your face into his pillow is one of the few things that helps, indulging in the scent of him as you touch yourself. If you think hard enough you can almost hear him.

Then the bed dips. Soon calloused hands are running up your bare legs as your bleary eyes meet Zevlors. His pupils are mere pinpricks as his rut settles in, his own arousal clear as your eyes dip between his legs. "How long have you been here like this, my love?" He asks, tender words paired with him swatting your hand away to replace it with his own.

You let out a low moan as two of his fingers push into you, stretching you more than your own ever could. "Too long... Please Zev-" You're soon calmed with gentle shushes, Zevlor carefully adding in a third finger as he shifts lower on the bed. Warm breath ghosts over your skin as he leans in, spreading warm kisses up the tops of your thigh.

"It's okay, let me take care of you now."

Rolan

This man has no space in his mind for tracking heats and ruts, he usually forgets when his own rut is going to hit

It's really not a surprise for him to take a while to realise you've gone on heat

What is a surprise is just how long he spent away from the tower this particular time, picking up some things for the store before seeing his siblings

You can imagine his shock when he'd left you relaxing in his office with a book and comes back to you grinding against a pillow on your shared bed

His mouth goes dry at the sight of your hips rolling against it, head thrown back in frustration

Rolans own rut hits him like a truck and all he can think of is how much he needs to fuck you

As soon as you turn to look at him again all bets are off, and soon Rolans clothes are too

You're hardly able to get a glance at your lover before he pounces on you, feeling yourself fall with a rush as a hard body presses you to the bed. Sharp teeth tease and nip at your neck, leaving claiming marks and small bruises in their wake. Soon, you hear the small growl from Rolans chest.

"So fucking desperate you had to grind against my pillow to get off?" He sneers, pulling back to flip you to your stomach. Clawed hand pull your hips so you lie head down and ass up just how he likes. Already you feel him sliding his cock against your entrance, grinding against you.

A whine and a plead leave you, exactly what Rolan likes. His long cock slides in easily with how you're prepared and feels endless as he fills you slowly. Soon you realise that's the only time he'll be slow with you, quickly pulling out before snapping his hips back against yours.

He takes you like this for the rest of the night, teasing and punishing you for making a mess of his pillow. Hands and a tail pull and push you in different positions over and over again. Rolan isn't pleased until you're panting and fucked out beneath him, so full with his cum that it drips down your thighs.

Halsin

Halsin is very aware of heats and ruts, despite not being affected personally

Just ask how he got his scar across his face and you'll realise how familiar he is

Despite not being able to smell when your hormones change like a male tiefling might, he's still very accurate when assuming when you'll go on heat

And there's no better sight in his opinion than walking in on you all flushed and needy right at the begining of your heat

When you just clue on to what's happing and why your thoughts keep straying to your elven lover

Halsins happy to drag things out a little, braiding your hair back if it's long enough, making sure you have food

The entire time you're whining for him, pressing your thighs together in your need for this man, until he finally takes you to bed

Shock rushes through you as you're swept up to a bridal carry, surrounded by firm muscles as you're carried out of the room. It's easy enough to lean up, lips covering the tan neck in front of you with kisses and nips as a chuckle leaves the chest you rest against. Halsin tightens his grip on you, his easygoing grin deceptive compared to his sharp eyes.

You're soon tossed into a pile of blankets and first on your shared bed, trying to shed your clothes once free of Halsins grip. Calloused hands join you, freeing you from fabric confines and running over your bare skin. Two thick fingers run over your entrance, teasing against it before pressing in and stretching you out on him. Even just the two fingers feel unbelievably thick, your back arching as they slip in deeper.

"So beautiful, Silvanus has truly blessed me with this sight." Halsin chuckles, watching as you writhe at the feeling of his fingers and slipping in a third. Every moan you let out goes straight to the mans dick, the sight of it mouthwatering as it presses against the crotch of his pants. You'll have to wait, though, and let your lover bring you to ecstasy with only his fingers first. Repeatedly

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

700 Years

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.6K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: sexual servitude briefly described in regards to Y/N (concubus), soft Haarlep (he is baby i love him so much), Raphael (enough said), fluffffff

Part 2

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

You heard the defenses of the door fade away. You laid unmoving, naked on the massive bed. The intruders gawked at you but you did not speak.

A tall tiefling made her way to you before gently shaking you a bit. Your eyes flit to hers, “Yes?” you asked.

“Who are you?” said the Selune follower.

“I am Y/N. One of Raphael’s concubus.” you said sitting up.

“But you’re a mortal?” questioned the vampire.

“Always read the fine print when you make a deal with the devil.” you mumbled. “Now, has the master sent you here for me to please you? All of you?” you said moving to sit on your knees.

“The devil imprisoned you as a concubus to serve him?” the vampire asked.

“No, he imprisoned me to serve his guests… Tell me fangs, how do you like it?” you said, leaning towards him with a seductive smile.

“That’s awful.” Karlach said not even realizing it slipped out.

“The devil isn’t a good guy? I’m shocked.” you said sarcastically. 

“If you can help us, we can save you.” said the githyanki in the back of the group. 

You quirked your eyebrow, wondering if this was a test from Raphael. Whatever the punishment would be for even saying you wanted to leave was enough to send a shiver down your spine. “I am not allowed to leave.” you said, pointing to the chain around your ankle that kept you bound to the bed. 

The adventurers eyed each other, unsure of what to do exactly. “The Orphic Hammer is in the archive, say “give me my heart's desire” and take it… quick before he comes back.”

Everyone nodded and started to run towards the archive, leaving you on the cold bed. Everyone except a certain vampire. He shook his head at the door, eyeing you before running back over to you. You watched him in stunned silence as he quickly made work of the complex lock chaining you to the bed. 

“What are you doing? You’re wasting your time.” you whispered to him.

“I was locked in sexual servitude for 200 years, call me soft for not wanting to leave you in the same state.” said the vampire as the final click of the lock snapped. 

“I haven’t been free of that chain in 100 years…” you whispered while silent tears fell from your eyes.

Astarion looked at you confused, “Human, but not mortal?”

You laughed out breathily. “Raphael keeps what’s his forever. He made me eternally youthful so his guests would be… eternally entertained.” 

“How long?” he asked, afraid to know the answer.

“What year is it?” you asked, trying to give an accurate calculation. 

“1490” he said quickly.

“Really?... I’ve been down here for 700 years… that is… um…” you felt your chest fill with dread. Everything and everyone you knew was gone. You were truly and completely alone.

“I don’t mean to be insensitive to what you’re going through right now but maybe we can sulk back at camp once we’ve escaped the hells?” he asked, standing you up and grabbing you random clothes he found strewn on the floor.

“Thank you…” you said. You felt detached from your body, your eyes had tunnel vision and you felt weak. 

“Astarion,” he said.

“Thank you Astarion.” you nodded gently.

“Astarion! We have company!” the tiefling yelled from the door, holding the hammer.

“Stay here, you can’t fight.” Astarion said, rushing the door. You followed him, grabbing his arm before he made the door. He could see it in your eyes. Fear. “I will come back for you as soon as Raphael is dead. I swear it.” he said.

Your grip on him loosened. All you could do was trust him. He left and you heard a never ending commotion from down the hall. You looked around the room searching for one specific thing, you knew Raphael wouldn’t throw away something so valuable, you just had to find it. You tried to open the opulent chest in the corner of the room, Raphael had chained you to the bed because you so much as touched the chest 100 years ago. 

“Looking for something little mouse?” said Haarlep from the doorway. He looked ravishing as always and a sinister smile graced his face. 

You rushed to him and hugged him immediately. Haarlep had been your one comfort in the House of Hope. When Raphael found that you and Haarlep were friends he moved Haarlep to a separate room just for them. That was 300 years ago, you hadn’t seen him since. 

He held you tightly. You two were bonded on a level not many could say they were. He understood your pain, and you understood his. He had been enduring it long before you had but you weren’t from the hells. You were some poor paladin who made a deal to save their lover… only for said lover to abandon you with Raphael. You were a beauty, that was undeniable. Raphael found a use for you in his demented little home. 

“It’s time for me to go.” you said, holding his face. 

He didn’t want you to leave, but he knew this place was not for you. He wanted you to be able to live life, you couldn’t do that here. “I suppose it is.” he smiled sadly at you. He enchanted the chest, unlocking it. There, in all its glory, was the armor you arrived in. Hell Dusk armor. With a snap of Haarlep’s fingers you adorned your armor. You felt powerful, your oath was long broken but you felt the power of the dark. It warmed you like an old friend. 

“Goodbye little mouse.” Haarlep said, caressing your cheek. You smiled up at him, both of you feeling the weight of this bittersweet moment. 

“Leave with me?” you begged him. 

Astarion rushed back into the room, “We have to leave now.” he said, barely acknowledging the devil. 

“Go little mouse. My place is here.” Haarlep adorned your neck with a necklace, the flick of his wrist poofing it into place. It was an infernal marble tied with a simple string. “Come tell me about your adventures in a few hundred years.” he said, smoothing his thumbs over your never ending tears. You nodded quickly, placing a quick kiss to his lips. Astarion grabbed your hand and started to lead you out. 

“Keep them safe.” was all Haarlep said to Astarion before disappearing into a cloud of black smoke. 

—————————

You escaped the hells and followed the adventurers to their camp. Everyone introduced themselves on the way. You noticed that Astarion hadn’t let your hand go yet, despite danger no longer being imminent. When you got to camp, you stayed with him. Feeling a sort of… comfort with him since he is the only one who stayed with you. 

Astarion was soft towards you, surprising even himself. All he could hear in his head was you saying 700. Living over twice as long as he had, he can’t imagine how Raphael had abused you. It broke his undead heart. He felt a sense of responsibility towards you. To protect you and care for you and show you the world might not be so bad. To guide you. Nobody had helped him and it was miserable. He was broken out of his trance by the sound of your armor being taken off. He looked at you, watching layer upon layer fade away. He saw the various scars that adorned your body. What in the hells had been done to you?

“Everyone had different pleasurable appetites in the hells… I had to indulge them.” you said running your fingers over some of your more lengthy and prominent scars. 

Astarion gently held his hand out to you, afraid that if he touched you first in this moment you might recoil. He was shocked when you took his hand and kissed his palm.

“Thank you…. for saving me. You didn’t have to. I’ll be useful to your team and fiercely loyal to you of course. Whatever you want of me, consider it yours.” Your eyes grew distant. He knew that look, he had worn it for 200 years. You were waiting for him to use you, your body specifically.

Astarion pulled his hand away from you and gave you some loose fitting clothes. “You belong to yourself. You’re free now, you decide what happens to you.” You held the clothes but didn’t move. 

“Strange to be free. The hells were home for 700 years. Everything I’ve ever known of this world has changed.” You spoke aloud, unsure if Astarion cared enough to listen. 

“You miss your lover?” Astarion said inquisitively. 

“Lover?” You asked confused.

Astarion pointed to your necklace, the infernal marble felt warm in your hand. “Haarlep wasn’t my lover, he was my friend. My only friend… Raphael… made us do things together for the entertainment of his guests… but we weren’t lovers. We were equals, stuck in the same awful predicament. He was always good to me.” You trailed off softly, missing Haarlep immensely. 

Astarion understood, he felt as if you and him were connected purely through the trauma others had inflicted upon you both. 

“I’m sorry… I know this must all be difficult but, you’re here now. Relatively safe, with somewhat normal companions. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like.” He said, secretly hoping you’d stay. 

“If I stay, can I stay near you?” You asked uneasy. 

“I don’t see why not, you haven’t proven burdensome yet.” He said with his eternal smirk present. 

You smiled. Today was full of more smiles than the past 100 years. “Then I’ll stay.”

Hello lovelies! I hope you're all doing well :) here is another fic, I think I might try to put one more out before work on Monday. Maybe this one could become a series if y'all like it that much? Idk I'm just doing my own thing until I get requests.... Thanks you for the likes, comments, reblogs, and motivation! Stay safe out there ilysm <3

[gigizetz]

Would you happen to have a lil more info on some of your personal, maybe dnd, OCs? UvU I'd love to draw something for you for all the awesome stuff you're doin

Aaa thank you so much! I very rarely get asked about my original characters so that makes me very happy lmao

The main guy that I had made an animation for on youtube is Calico! Here's a reference of him

He's basically a very mischievous boy that likes to skate around all day, paint walls, read comics and cause trouble. Also he has a pet shoe which he wears all the time his name is Rex.

That one dnd OC I posted some time ago is a tiefling healer named Abbi. She's chill, extroverted, very charming and is always smoking a pipe. Here's some refs

That's basically it! I have some other original characters but they are very under-developed so I might keep them for the future. These two are my babies (not really I consider them more like little raccoons that invaded my house) and I want to start posting more drawings of them.

[spicyraeman]

Can we see your ocs?

Yes! thank you for asking bc I have a hard time talking/posting about them unless someone specifically asks 😅

They've all got main tags (minus Hound) that you can find in my pinned, but i've never really introduced them or anything so imma take the chance to show 'em off and write a lil blurb about them

Virranan (he/they/she)

My specialist lil guy and the most fleshed out of all my current ocs. A half wood elf gloomstalker and an infamous information broker / bounty hunter pre-tadpole. Generally trying to be a good person post-tadpole but their more morally dubious tendencies do tend to crop up from time to time. Also a werewolf.

Rûngrim (she/they/it)

A Seldarine Drow barbarian spared and raised in an orcish tribe after her family was slaughtered as a baby. Forwent their personhood to become a bloodrager, they consider themself more weapon than person. Not nearly as scary as they look.

Treble (she/her)

An ex-noble bard tiefling who left her family in her early 20s to join a traveling circus. Resents her family but loves her younger brother (the favorite child). A jack of all trades type, most people find her kinda unpleasant to be around, but she's great around kids.

Phylo (they/it)

A circle of spores druid and technically a Drow. They were raised in a Myconid colony and fully considers itself a Myconid. Their skin is covered in all manner of constantly growing fungi that need to be pruned regularly. It speaks very rarely, instead preferring to use telepathic methods when possible and sign language when not.

Hound (she/they)

my newest oc, they're a wild magic sorcerer durge on the redeemed path but first she's gonna do some real fucked up shit in act 1

[hollow-lime-green]

Can you tell us a little about your D&D stuff? -sincerely an avid dnd player who loves hearing about other people’s characters

aaaa sure!

briefly - when I do actually get to be a player, I fucking love playing rogues. god i am so basic and easy, catch me playing a tiefling/changeling rogue 100% of the time. i am a power gamer though, and i'll take a lot of feats to do all sorts of weird bullshit (and the 2024 thief buffs are going to make me insufferable. fast hands has always been my favorite ability in the game, and now thief is finally good for real and not just by dm fiat).

i like every class except artificer and monk (fine just not for me), but rogues have my heart. in every game, skyrim to borderlands to d&d, I like being a pain in the ass from a long distance away. i don't get to play a lot, so i don't have a lot of characters that i'm super tied to, but right now, i'm essentially playing a cabal of tiefling/changeling rogues (one for every subclass) that are running the underground of my friend's city in a westmarch style progressive series of oneshots he hosts at our local game store.

mainly, though, i have always been a perma-dm of my groups, although I am trying to find a group that rotates better because as it turns out, being a perma-dm can absolutely fuck with your interpersonal relationships. i had a really awesome d&d group in undergrad that I DM'd for, and I have a lot of great memories from that. we played on campus for the first two years, then on roll20 for a few more years after that. unfortunately, as most d&d groups do, we died to the BBEG known as Adult Life Schedules.

since then, I've been DMing semi-regularly at a local game shop, sometimes playing, and I've made a lot of in-person friends. we play both at and outside of the shop, but almost all one-shots, although when I eventually move away from this current location, I will probably try to drag them into an online campaign. lots of dm talk and pictures under the cut, since this will be kind of long. :)

Props!

as a dm, i am very prop focused, i love a good prop. it's the engineer girlie in me. sat night I ran a 12th level one shot for my friends to test out some of the new 2024 rules at high level, and what I'm most proud of was my hidden magnet bridge (see below) - this is a progress pic but I do generally keep my sets pretty minimal aesthetically. anyway this was super fun because i set it up as this precarious bridge that they needed to get across and do some puzzles (hence the set), and then i ambushed them with the hidden magnets (actual reason for the set).

this is one of my faves from maaaaany years ago. i could do it better if I tried it again, but it's tough. this was for an encounter where an enemy was locally changing the direction of gravity, so the set rotated. it was surprisingly stable but difficult to play on due to the fact that you have like 270 degrees of the table that can see and then whoever is behind the wall (the dm) can't see shit. this was during my in-person UG years, so baby engineer but still making it work.

this is something I've done more recently that is more minimalist but insanely effective as a minigame. i had some players navigating through a space field, so they had to plot a course through this minefield and peel off the tape stickers one by one to see if they hit a danger. again, left is a progress pic. they all got blacked out. the right one was actually my dm key during the session lol, so I knew what they were gonna hit before they hit it.

I do a lot of mini prop pieces to go on top of my battle map as terrain, mostly cardboard just to give height and make things a bit more dynamic. and i'll usually have some lair action that rotates or takes away some of that terrain. one other thing I'm playing around with is this plexiglass transparent overlay designed for water combat, so I can put biiiiiig bad guys underneath the party. that one is for a oneshot based on the game DREDGE (which I highly recommend by the way - fishing survival cozygame with an eldritch monstrous flair). this lighthouse works as a sanity indicator, so as the party loses sanity (due to the eldritch fish), I can change its color.

i have no idea how i've run this game like 7 times and yet I can't find any pictures of it, but I have a one-shot that is based on Potion Permit (another farming sim cozygame) where the players collect these tiny cardboard tetris pieces and have to use them to complete tetris piece recipes to make potion and Save The Town From Illness! players love a prop, players love a minigame, and i love running those things as well.

Characters!

I have a lot of DMPCs that I love from my long campaigns, but DMPCs can be irritating, so i have shifted away from character-driven things for my oneshots. when I go back to doing campaigns, I'm going to try to do them better? I don't know, getting people invested in OCs whether it's writing or ttrpg is always sort of a challenge. players get invested in the bonds between the party but not often in their actual NPCs. So I'm not going to yap about them too much, but I'll list the concepts of my fave DMPCs:

blind bard who sees through a force field cantrip like cat whiskers - later becomes a seer (like divination) at the cost of losing his blindsight due to Player-Caused Apocalypse. becomes an unwilling consort to an archdevil who rules the wastelands after Player-Caused Apocalypse.

red hag who used a wish spell to free herself of pacts of loyalty but as a consequence cannot form lasting relationships with any creature, and cannot wish again. trying to make a Deck of Many Things to get more wishes and fix this (doomed)

half-fey archer with the mantle of the summer court trying to avenge her parents killed by the winter court, warrior softened by the touch of a woman (autumn fey cottagecore mom friend with an aussie accent). they were fun because the party actually got really invested in them and they got to complete their love story :)

spellthief rogue champion of the gods caught in a messy 'the parents are fighting' situation where the aspects of law and chaos fight. she is going to make a return when i start my next campaign because it's going to be a time loop situation, and she'll be the one resetting the timeline and trying to make off-screen changes (killing monarchs, planting magic items) to affect the future.

[baldursghaik]

Tagged by @wisp-of-chaos!

Thank you so much for the tag! (and it’s also a miracle I even saw it, tumblr is so bad about giving me @ notifs, but this one didn’t even link, I was so lucky that I happened to see it on my dash!)

Without further ado, Thyneron:

Phobias and other fears: The list of things he’s NOT afraid of might be shorter, because he is the world’s biggest scaredy-cat. His main fear is death, though: the hurting, being scared, and the pure finality of it all. He’s almost equally afraid of other people dying as well, because it’s a reminder of how terribly fragile people (himself) are, and how quickly it can all be over.

Pet Peeves: People who are mean spirited and unnecessarily unkind or cruel.

3 things you can always find in their bedroom: Books, nice soaps/perfumes, photos of his family and pets.

First thing they notice in a person: Their eyes, and whether they seem friendly or not. He is an absolutely garbage judge of character.

On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance? 2, he is the coughing baby vs the hydrogen bomb of general existence.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? 100% flight, he is as conflict avoidant as possible.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? He is deeply, DEEPLY, family oriented. He comes from an enormous family, and has even continued to live with this parents well into his forties in spite of being well off on his own accord. His parents enjoy that their eldest son gets along with them so well, but they do wish he’d go and actually start living his own life.

What animal represents them best? Rabbits. They’re perhaps the best known prey animal (which is Thyneron to a T), but they also symbolize reproduction, death, and rebirth, which fits his entire arc in bg3 (and the life he lives beyond) quite nicely.

What is a smell they dislike? Florals, anything grassy. He much prefers woody, earthy, and metallic scents.

Have they broken any bones? Prior to turning illithid, no. There’s certainly something funny about avoiding even a single broken bone your entire life and then having them all snap simultaneously though.

How would a stranger likely describe them? Anyone’s first impression would be that this guy is loaded. Further impressions would be what any tiefling could expect: commentary on the horns, tail, etc. Most people would probably be somewhat puzzled to see a tiefling so well off. Beyond that though, most people can probably peg that there’s something a little… off about him. Not necessarily in a bad way, but he certainly doesn’t fit in anywhere. He’s too well dressed, too formal, too bright/loudly colored, too everything. In short, he looks like a bit of a tryhard who’s both out of touch with average people, but also the patriars and nobles he was raised alongside.

Are they a night owl or morning bird? A night owl. Usually spent staying up late reading, but occasionally drinking/partying with his family.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? He loves anything fermented, tangy and sour. He dislikes anything bland and delicate, as he prefers rich foods with intense flavors. He’s especially fond of cured meats.

Do they have any hobbies? Reading is his primary hobby. Most of his “work” day involves sitting in the library and losing himself in anything he can get his hands on, whether it’s ancient historical documents or cheap bodice ripper romances. This man would read the phone book if there wasn’t anything better to do. History is by far his preferred subject, though.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? He would love this. Happy surprises are always welcome! He’s sociable (… as much as he can be for a homebody shut-in) and likes to be around people, and this would pretty much make his day that people cared enough to plan something for him.

Do they like to wear jewelry? He’s got several piercings: three in each ear, a loop in each eyebrow, and a nose ring. He probably would have added to the collection if it weren’t for that whole “turning into a squid” thing. He doesn’t particularly enjoy jewelry post illithid transformation, though (at least… on himself).

Do they have messy handwriting? He has impeccably neat and precise handwriting. Like all good historians, though, he can read even the most illegible chicken scratch.

What are the two emotions they feel the most? Guilt and fear. Primarily guilt. He is intensely privileged, and he knows it, and spends a not insignificant amount of time agonizing over it.

Do they have a fabric? Shot silk! I never bother to actually paint it in because I’m lazy, but I absolutely envision that his fancy day clothes are shotted blue with green, to provide a subtle iridescent sheen.

An example, if you’re not familiar with it:

What kind of accent do they have? He’s from the Upper City and sounds like it: he’s well spoken, formal, and polite. On a purely vocal level, he’s a little bit nasally, but sounds like he’d have a pleasant singing voice if he actually tried.

I like that this meme has painted him to be an extraordinarily better person than he actually is, which is a pretty excellent illustration of the fact that he’s an awful person, but believes that feeling bad about it is enough to absolve him of his actions.

Tagging: @themumblingmouse, @arcandoria, @ronqueesha,

@voidspearzhovae, @des-no9, @poly-hebdo, @adultfiendfinder, and anyone else who wants to do this!

[vera-king-hrfl]

Yay! OK so I picked this up from @dark-and-kawaii (thank you bebe! I only wish my design skills were as godlike as yours and not painfully infantile 😅) And I thought it was just a super fun way to explain my HC surrounding my two lovers, Cal and Ryldinn. Obvi Ryldinn is mine, so I decide what he's like, but the Cal stuff is also specific to this story, and might not agree with your own.

Nsft below cut, CW: discussion of sexual trauma.

Ryldinn

For those of you who have read the story and know his background, this might seem a bit odd, but just work with me. People handle things in different ways.

Ryldinn was a sex slave before he was kidnapped by the mindflayers. Basically, a prostitute whose owner kept all the money and who had no choice about who he slept with or what was done to him. He's also killed a lot of people for the same reason. He feels no guilt about that.

So it might be a surprise that he's quite submissive. He's definitely a bottom, and he likes pain. He likes to be spanked, clawed, bitten, and having his hair pulled. He likes it when Cal loses it a bit and gets rough. He never really minded his life that much before. He's never known anything else, and in his society, there was never anyone who would think there was anything wrong with that, so it doesn't affect him like it would affect, say, Astarion. There is trauma there, though it's very much buried in his psychology. He's starting to feel more agency over his own body, and now he'll only accept those things if Cal does them, but he still likes it.

He is very homosexual. He dislikes women in general and would never actually touch one in that way unless he was ordered to do so. Those of you who understand matriarchal drow society will understand why. He's gay due to past trauma. He's obviously not a gold star, but he's never been with a woman out of choice.

Part of his repressed trauma requires him to be very clean at all times. It's almost an OCD compulsion. He doesn't mind if Cal is sweaty or smells a bit like a horse, but for himself, he bathes as often and as thoroughly as possible and loves water and swimming, scented oils for his soft sensitive skin, soap, and anything that smells nice.

His body is the drow definition of perfection. He's not tall (5'7" or so) or extremely muscular but tight, hard, strong, smooth, and defined. He's lighter and stronger than he looks. His dick isn't very big but quite pretty, easy to take, or to suck. He's sinuous, lean, the elven equivalent of a gazelle or a cheetah. He has very dark grey skin, almost black, and pure white hair, almost translucent. Bright red eyes, slightly pink lips and nipples, lighter palms, and soles.

Cal

My sweet baby boy! The little brother, the peace maker. Always polite and accommodating. Possibly the only person who could have taken that weird damaged guy and made anything pleasant out of him.

Cal is a genuinely good person. He's been through literal hell, but despite the devil blood, he strains with all his being to keep his hope and his softness. He's also killed people, but he hates it, and it haunts him.

Sexually, he's actually quite dominant. He loves being asked for sex, encouraged, and being begged sets him on fire. He was a virgin before Ryldinn, but he finds his stride and discovers his likes and dislikes very quickly. He's a top, but the service variety, and he makes sure that his partner is feeling good before taking his own pleasure. He doesn't mind hurting Ryldinn as long as he knows that he's enjoying it, but he's not really into pain himself, and bottoming is not his preference, though he will do it if Ryldinn wants, and does have that occasional desire. He likes using his tail, likes when his horns are pulled on, and loves when his tiefling attributes are adored. He's a bit insecure about his heritage.

Cal is bi/pan, whatever. It wouldn’t have mattered to him if Ryldinn had been a woman or a sentient rock. He loves the person, regardless of what they look like. The fact that Ryldinn is beautiful and wants him so bad is a bonus. It's that want, that desire to be with him that makes Cal melt. He's also demi and has a hard time performing unless he loves the person and they love him back. That said, there is quite a bit of devil blood in there, and sometimes that takes over, though he tries with all his might to suppress that.

Cal is a bigger dude. I made him about 6'1" in my story, and reasonably muscular. He's a bit malnourished due to the exile and the journey, but he has a tendency to get a bit more chunky when he's comfortable. He'd definitely be softer around the middle with a bit of a belly. Nothing wrong with that! He'd be your very own squishy heater to snuggle with on cold winter nights. He is also a devilish tiefling and has that big thick ridged cock. He likes it when Ryldinn tells him how big he is, as plenty of men would.

Together

They both love kissing. Ryldinn had never been kissed before Cal did it, but now it's his favorite thing to do. He loves the soft lips and the forked tongue and the intimacy. He can kiss his tiefling for hours. Cal has kissed, had a few hot and heavy make-out sessions when he was younger, just never went further.

Eye contact. Another thing Ryldinn has avoided, but Cals eyes are so beautiful to him, the gentle burning fires, the love and desire. It just makes him feel special.

They both have a pretty high sex drive and do it often. Cal usually tops, but he also likes to go down on Ryldinn, to taste him and make him shudder. Ryldinn likes it any way Cal does. Slow soft missionary, against a wall, bent over a table, whatever his man is in the mood for. Cal's favorite position is on his back with Ryldinn riding him. He loves to watch how his body turns his lover into a shaking panting mess. He loves to see the gentle undulation of the perfect gorgeous body enjoying him so much.

They both love touch. When they're together, they're usually touching, even if it's discreet. Hand holding, tail wrapped around an ankle, petting.

Anyway, there's probably more but those parts are still to come so I'll leave it here. I hope this helps you to understand where I'm going with this. I've had so much amazing encouragement and feedback from you guys it's inspired me to go deeper into the personality of these characters and how I see them. Thank you all so much for tolerating me! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Colette Clay

Pairing: Cold Graves, with special guest @hyperionshipping and Caleb

Warning: Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth

“Oh, Nic, she’s soooo cute!” Jester squealed as the Nein gazed at the week old baby nestled in Nic’s arms. The Firbolg was smaller than average, but bigger than any human baby. She was covered in a silver-gray fur with a small tuft of brown hair on the top of her head in a little mohawk.

They were gathered in the center of the grove, relaxing on the grass and blankets set up. Nic chuckled at Jester’s words, bouncing her daughter gently. Caduceus joined the group, setting down a small array of food before sitting beside his partner.

“She’s not as cute when she’s crying at midnight,” Nic teased, tickling her daughter’s nose with her finger.

“What’s her name?” Beau asked, staring skeptically at the baby. Did she and Yasha want kids? They had talked about it on and off over the last decade.

“Colette,” Caduceus told them softly.

Nic giggled. “Have to keep up the tradition after all.”

“So how many are you two planning on having?” Caleb asked, already in his brain planning on how to rearrange Caduceus and Nic’s shared room in the tower to accommodate the new addition. “Are you one and done, or can we expect more little ones?”

“Oh, um…” Nic and Caduceus looked at each other. Did they want more children? Colette was a surprise, but planning out more kids seemed logical.

“For now she’s an only child,” Caduceus answered, giving his finger to Colette who tightly gripped subconsciously.

“Yeah, I mean, you know Cad and I aren’t all that into sex anyway. It was just a one time thing and it resulted in our little rainbow, so for now just one,” Nic added.

“Well, you know, if the two of you ever need a break you have a few options for babysitters,” Caleb said, smiling softly as Tricks leaned against his back, the tiefling draping his arms over the wizard’s shoulders.

Nic couldn’t help the snort that escaped. “I love you guys, but I trust none of you with my daughter.”

“What about Veth? She’s a mom.” Yasha suggested, pointing to the rogue who was making silly faces at Colette. She had yet to giggle.

“As a mom, she’s wonderful, but as an aunt…” Nic sucked in a breath. “I fear she’ll be a terrible influence.”

“What about me?!” Jester protested.

“You’d be the worst influence,” Caduceus replied light-heartedly.

Jester pouted, leaning against Fjord’s chest with her arms crossed. Her fiancé rolled his eyes playfully. “Can we at least hold her?” Jester asked.

Nic tensed at the question. Since the moment Colette entered the world she had a strong protectiveness over her daughter. It took her a whole day to gather the courage to let Caduceus’s parents hold their granddaughter. But the Nein? Sure, they were her and Caduceus’s closest friends, but they weren’t known for being careful.

Sensing her anxiety, Caduceus rested a hand on her back and subtly casted Calm Emotion on her. Nic eased, relaxing at his touch and letting out a sigh. He had been using it on her more and more lately. She was a ball of nerves, and that spell was the only thing giving her any sense of peace.

“If any of you drop her, you will be blighted,” Nic threatened calmly, looking at Fjord.

He was taken aback by her staring directly at him. He was offended at the accusation. “Why did you look at me when you said that?”

“Honestly, Fjord, you are kind of clumsy,” Jester told him matter-of-factly.

“I am not clumsy!” he objected.

“I’ll hold her first,” Beau begrudgingly offered, holding out her arms. Nic placed Colette in the monk’s arms and helped Beau position her arms so the baby was comfortable. She stiffened up as she held the newborn, afraid to move and hurt her. Yasha didn’t miss a beat and began cooing at the baby.

“Oh look at you. Look at your little cheeks. And those ears, they’re so floppy and cute,” the barbarian put on a baby voice, gently squishing Colette’s cheeks. “I could just eat you up. Yes, I could. Yes I could.”

“So how are you feeling?” Tricks asked Nic, moving to settle in Caleb’s lap.

“Greater restoration, some healing spells, and I feel great,” Nic waved her hand. “But I’m so exhausted. She eats so much, and so often. I feel like Veth’s endless flask. But this is nothing compared to the actual labor. I’m not exaggerating when I say it was a whole week.”

“I could barely get her to sit still long enough to eat,” Caduceus chimed in, handing Nic a cup of tea he poured. “But Colette’s birth was special.”

“I wanted her to be born outside in nature so I gave birth out here in the yard of the grove,” Nic told them. “Actually, she was born directly in that spot you’re sitting on, Fjord.” She pointed to the half-orc.

“What? Oh, ew.” He pushed Jester off and moved to the side, off the spot Nic was talking about.

“She was born in the rain, though. It was actually a sunshower. You know, when it’s raining but it’s sunny out,” Nic said, taking a sip of her tea. “And afterwards, when it stopped raining, we looked up and saw the most beautiful and vibrant rainbow ever.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing,” Jester sighed dreamily.

“Don’t do it. Don’t give birth. It’s hell. I’ve been stabbed in the stomach and it was less painful that having a baby,” Nic warned, snuggling into Caduceus’s side.

After a few minutes Beau leaned over and quickly placed Colette in Fjord’s arms. He let out a yelp, not expecting to be handed the newborn. “Here Fjord, you hold her,” Beau said. She couldn’t wait to pass off the baby.

“Ah!” He was startled, cradling Colette carefully. Nic’s threat echoed in his mind. “Good… baby.”

“She’s not a dog!” Veth snapped.

“I don’t know! I’ve never held a baby before!” Fjord exclaimed nervously.

“It’s not that hard,” Jester said, taking her from him.

“Be careful with her. I spent ten months making her,” Nic said, a bit anxious as she watched Colette be passed from person to person.

As if on cue, Colette started to cry. The shrill scream pierced the moment and it set Nic on edge as she was already reaching for her daughter. She took the baby from Jester as Veth spoke up.

“Way to go Fjord!”

“What did I do?” Fjord asked.

“It’s not you,” Caduceus assured, watching as Colette clung to her mother. “She’s hungry.”

“Again,” Nic said, standing up. “Excuse me.” She walked away, heading into the temple to feed Colette.

“It seems like a lot of work to take care of a baby,” Jester commented.

“Actually Colette has been an easy baby so far,” Caduceus told her. “It’s Nic that’s been a handful.”

[not-5-rats]

I genuinly really enjoy making these scenarios posts, seeing the way each Bug responds to them is awesome, thank you guys for putting up with my nonsense, love you guys 🫶

Anyways less of that, to the questions!!

1. Rank the boys based on how sad your Bug would be if they died during the arena escape (so Bodie, Timmy & Marco, you can include your Bug in the ranking as well if you wish ^^)

2. Greek God! AU

What kind of things do they take as offerings?

3. Okay but like...do you like your Bug? Not in a 'Oh yeah I made them, I did well, I'm proud of myself for making them' way no, in a personal way, do you like their personality?

4. We're going out to a coffee shop! What's your Bugs coffee order? (Or...wtv they wanna get)

5. Scenario #1 :D

Bug received a letter a few days ago, it was an anonymous letter requesting them to meet at a cafe in a few days. Against their better judgement Bug decided to go along (with the appropriate weaponry ofc). They got to the cafe and sat down at a table, they ordered their drink but before they could pay a taller woman with short ginger-ish blond hair came over

"I'll pay, don't worry about it"

Bug didn't get a chance to argue, she had already paid. It was odd, Bug was sure they recognised her face...she was familiar but they couldn't tell where they had seen her before. Without asking the lady sat down at the other side of the table, she didn't look at Bug initially, as thought she was afraid to meet their eye.

"I apologise for the nature of the letter I sent you, honestly I didn't expect you to show up...but I knew if I explained why I needed to speak with you..you'd refuse to meet with me"

As she looked up Bug finally recognised who it was, Audrey, what the fuck did she want?? Bug went to argue but she quickly started talking again, her voice seemed to shake slightly, it was laced with shame...and worry

"I know! Before you start, I know! I was...harsh to Chester, but you have to see it from my vie-!...anyway that wasn't why I needed to see you. I needed to ask you about something, about someone"

Bug was pretty sure they already knew what was coming before she said it, they sighed slightly. When Audrey started to speak her voice was alot quieter, the trembling had gotten worse

"How...is he doing, Chester. I don't want to reach out to him...divines' know he would hate to hear from me...so I wanted to ask you. So please, how's he doing?"

Tears began to brim in her eyes as her gaze fell to the table out of shame, her words were barely above a whisper at this point

"Please *Bug*...I just want to know if my baby brother's doing alright"

☆---------------☆

Tags -

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy @stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @recated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @itsargyle @astralbulldragon13 @ccstiles @puffin-smoke @fruity0salad @takashishihoin @megapugman @reefhastoomanyaccs @kaydenskiwi @greaysharkboi @itzscribz @blingzyya @atonalasmr @headstrashdump @gatorboys22 @drowziestar @howdyimmaia

[forgeofthenine]

Ok but picture this - tiefling tails are ridged, right? Just imagine grinding against their tail, maybe holding horns for stability~ maaaaaaybe we could get some hcs on how the tiefs would cope with this? :3

Tiefling tails are absolutely ridged and more people need to include tail play in their fanfiction! I loved writing this one anon, and I hope you don't mind but I added on some headcanons for Rolan as well :)

NSFW under the cut, all gender neutral and nothing that needs warnings

Tiefling bachelor NSFW tail headcanons

Dammon

This man would cope incredibly well with tail play

Dammon is a slut for any attention you pay to his tail and grinding against it is absolutely going to get him going

It doesn't matter if you guys are clothed or naked, in his bedroom or just in his forge storage room, you only need to ask and he's ready

He's so loud every time you do it, press yourself down on his tail while holding the base of his horns and you will hear the prettiest moans from him

Hands roam over your whole body, Dammon can't keep still

Speaking of not staying still, he will absolutely be hard as a rock and bucking his hips when you guys really get into it

You can make him cum untouched by riding his tail

He praises you so nicely too

"Just like that, making me feel so good baby."

Zevlor

Zevlor is scandalised and horny

"My tail-? You're actually suggesting... Well... I'm not opposed, as such."

He might take a bit more warming up, maybe a bit of making out and heavy petting, but he will also do tail play

You'll find he also gets very into it after a while

It's always done in the utmost privacy (or as close as you can get while on the road)

Your hold is on his horns but his are always on your hips, Zevlor is a gentleman and helps you grind yourself down on him

This man groans, and tips his head back, and looks so pretty-

Keep your hands on his horns, help pull his head back, kiss and suck on his neck

Zevlor just melts under your affections in bed

He won't cum untouched, but this is a definite way to work him up into a bit of a frenzy

Rolan

Put this man in his place

Sit him the hell down and grind on his tail until he's a whimpering little mess underneath you

No one can tell me Rolans horns aren't the perfect shape to hold

He's built for this

It doesn't matter where you are, the grove or Ramaziths tower, pull him off to relative privacy and he's all yours

Like I said, he whimpers

Rolan will whine too

Never quite loses his sass though, if he can't tease with words then he'll nip at your collarbones and shoulders instead

Trust him to tense up his tail randomly so you'll feel it shift against you and falter in your pace

Rolan can cum untouched like this too but he'll never admit it

Instead he prefers to just snark you

"Can't seem to get enough of me, can you darling? Don't be greedy now."

[lorenhearsawho]

Self Indulgent Baldur's Gate OC Post

I love looking at people's OC, and so I thought to myself, "ah, yes, it is my turn..."

Ezra, oh, my sweet baby boy...

Drow Rogue Assassin :p

Literally, just some dude that got picked up. No, he does not care about dying or living, really. He just kinda does everything because people ask him to.

He was just a homeless guy before getting picked up, so honestly, this is probably the best thing to have happened to him.

Burned his face from a cooking accident a long time ago and did not bother healing himself.

Has a bad habit of just taking things because he can... "Finders keepers", he says.

In a relationship with Gale because he was the first companion to admit having feelings for him, so he just kinda rolled with it. (yes, he is faithful.)

Atarah >:D

Mephistopheles Tiefling Rogue Assassin (I only ever play this class...)

My Durge... My evil, evil princess... My sexy, evil femme fatale... No, she doesn't spit on or step on, she is far too elegant. Beheading and impaling are more her style. ("Don't expect me to take this lying down, that's more your style from what I can tell...")

I literally made her just for Gorty. I love Gort x Durge content.

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss

HATES Orin. Kill her immediately.

Virginia :3

Mephistopheles Tiefling Fighter Battle Master

Someone please save her, she does not want to be here. She is so scared. Will complain, and then cry about it. But, she tries her absolute hardest to be good!! Promise!!

A family guy™ (I made her with my cousin. She's twins with a bard named Georgia. She does all the hard work, while Virginia just kinda punches when told to.)

Cut herself with her own sword, trying to learn how to fight... Oopsies xP

Not a great talker... Not really good at most, really...

[obsidiancreates]

Alone Together

(CoS and Icebound spoilers)

When Skrimm died, he didn't end up sucked to hell.

He would've been relieved, but he was dead. So he wasn't much of anything.

Whatever claim was on his soul was blocked, somehow, and he simply Died. And it took this time, unlike when he was eaten alive by that monster on the river. Just a corpse, and then a skeleton, and then nothing more.

Until he blinked awake.

Awake in an unfamiliar place, next to a newborn Tiefling baby, floating.

Skrimm looks around.

He's alone.

"Oh, what the fuck is this?"

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

He watches Shepherd drink, face in his hands as he sits on the bar counter. He sighs. "Ya' know, I miss that almost as much as I miss my friends. At least if I could drink, I could blackout and forget I'm alone for a while."

Shepherd didn't respond, of course. He never does, unless it's a dream, and even then Skrimm is always a little unsure how to converse with the guy. Maybe if he'd popped in when Shepherd was already grown up that'd be different, but he's been stuck with the guy since he was a baby. He'd seen some shit he... wishes he hadn't. If he thought watching Barnabos's memories all those years ago was a lot to handle...

But he's not Shepherd's friend, nor some guardian spirit. He's tried, oh boy, has he tried. He knows other ghosts can usually go something, even just little things, but not him.

It wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't alone.

Not for the first time since waking up, Skrimm scowls and mutters "Fuck you, Jack."

Because that's the only thing he can think of. The only reason he might be stuck in this nothingness. Why he's connected to this random Teifling, he doesn't know, but it has to be some twisted game, like The Hound.

Shepherd, still unaware, just sips his mug again. Skrimm groans. "Come onnnn, you've barely touched the stuff! You're torturing me here! If you're gonna sit in a dark corner of a bar, you might as well get absolutely tanked while you're at it! Otherwise I'm just watching you brood!"

Nothing.

Skrimm groans again and flops onto his back, splayed dramatically atop the bar with no-one to witness his theatrical displeasure. He hears the doors swing open, and looks up to see-

Just a couple of humans. Great. Out-of-towners for sure, with their fancy outfits. The human man's tophat has Skrimm absentmindedly pulling on his own hat, a little self-conscious despite the invisibility.

And then the man's eyes fall on Shepherd. They narrow, and he says to his companion, louder than he probably thinks he's being, for her to be cautious, as someone "might not be who he thought they were."

The hat comes off as he approaches, awkwardly sidling up to the seat next to Shepherd and looking more out of place than Taishen in the snowbanks.

"Ah, whoa, whoa, hey." Skrimm gets back up, walking over to look down at the human man. "Fuck off buddy, you can't just say what really sounded like anti-Teifling shit and wander right up to us."

Unaware as the rest of the world, the man simply clears his throat and asks Shepherd how he's doing, and Shepherd just... answers and asks the same.

"What?!" Skrimm looks between them. "Are you kidding me! Shepherd, buddy, this guy is not our kind of person!"

The human man tries to order a brandy, instantly enraging the barkeep.

"See?! He's going to get us cut off, oh gods, for the love of all that is holy to yourself and everyone I've ever known, please get away from him!"

Shepherd just listens with a faint smirk as the human fumbles with his words, asking if he knows anyone named "Shepherd". With a small laugh and a smirk, Shepherd confirms it, because it's him.

"You obviously knew that already," Skrimm growls at the human. "What's your game here, huh? Playing innocent about something? Trying to get us to lower our guards, huh?!"

"Professor Clayton Azran, pleasure to meet you!"

"Ah, you're the professor then, I've been waitin' for you."

"Wait, what? Since when?" Skrimm stares open-mouthed at Shepherd. "What the hell are you doing when I'm not paying attention?! You took a job from this guy?!"

Skrimm sits, fuming, for the rest of the conversation. Especially when this "Clayton" just pulls out a sack of coin and puts it on the bar without even trying to hide it.

"Oh gods, he's gonna get you killed," Skrimm mumbles. "I don't trust this guy as far as Barnabos could throw me. At least Victoria there knows to look around the fucking bar!"

He gets more amusement than is right out of seeing Clayton so easily lied to by the bartender about the price, and even more seeing Vitoria have to point it out before Clayton realizes what's happening.

"I mean no offense ma'am, ya got some pretty eyes-"

"Oh, she'll kill you for that-"

"Thank you."

"Oh. ... Gods, I miss Queenie."

"Just name a number and I'll pay it, I'm confused!" Clayton ends up saying.

"Shepherd, this guy is literally the easiest mark I've ever seen. Please just rob him blind and let's get home, how's that sound?"

It sounds like nothing to Shepherd, who probably wouldn't dream of robbing someone that way even if Skrimm literally showed up in said dream to make it happen.

Sure enough, Shepherd says it's not about the money, and Skrimm groans and flops onto his back again as Shepherd follows up with "I mean it when I say I'm goin' to protect you, especially the young woman."

"Pretty sure she can handle herself," Skrimm says, watching Victoria keep an eye on the people around them. "This asshole's going to be way more trouble, I can feel it. Who doesn't tell their fucking hired weapon about how big their group is gonna be? See, she's lecturing the guy now, she can look after herself. I'd never be able to get a single copper out of her. Gods, this bartender is intrusive."

"I do have several questions for you, Professor."

"And I have several questions for you!"

"You'll find he's, full of questions."

"He's like a worse version of Manny," Skrimm deadpans, now laying on his stomach and glaring at Clayton (and the bartender, whenever he speaks. Whatever that guy's deal is, he needs to chill the fuck out.)

When Shepherd says he's not expecting too much trouble, Skrimm barks out a laugh. He knows trouble, knows it far better than he wants to, and he can smell it coming, quickly, and in large quantities.

And then his head snaps back to Shepherd as Clayton begins touching Shepherd's horns.

Shepherd says it's okay, but Skrimm has his ghostly Brutal Blade passing through Clayton's neck over and over, spitting curses as it does nothing. Tonight when Shepherd falls asleep, Skrimm is going to be going on a rant.

For some reason Shepherd actually leaves the bar with these two instead of yanking the gold and booking it. Skrimm imagines this is what it feels like to be a disappointed parent.

They. Spend. Days. With these people. As each one passes, Skrimm decides he hates Clayton more and more, and decides Victoria must have some ulterior motive for willingly being the man's assistant.

And now they're picking up another person. From a creepy, horrific, definitely-haunted woods.

"We're turning back now, right?" Skrimm ways, sitting on Shepherd's head and looking down. "The horrifying distant lantern lights are the last straw here, right?!"

They aren't. Skrimm thinks he'd be having a heart attack if he was still alive.

"If you trust this man, Professor, I trust you-"

"Why?! Why would you ever trust him?! If anything that makes this mystery guy less trustworthy! I swear to the nine hells, the next thing we know he's going to be saying this guy is a some kind of-"

"-they might be what you would call a cult."

"... Okay, cultist was not my guess, I'll be honest. What the fuck, Shepherd. Why are we still here?! ... Oh, and the bird people above hate outsiders and ground dwellers, great! This is so fucked up, at least my whole fucking ordeal was unwilling. You just walked right in, all by your own choosing! I thought you were smarter than this. I really did."

Clayton asks Victoria if knowing her a month or two is enough to be on a first-name basis, and Skrimm remembers how after knowing his friends for, really only one actual night and then just passing meetings afterward, he'd been planning ways to break all of them out of prison together.

Then again, this is Clayton. So Skrimm would probably say No if he was the one being asked right now.

"Miss Isaacs, I'm with you, I don't judge-"

"I do. This whole thing sucks. Where the fuck is the cultist guide, we gotta get this over with. ... Oh. Oh, gods, no."

When Clayton said Cultist, he really meant Cultist. Everything about this man puts Skrimm on edge, from the strange lantern to the grimy robe to the smile.

And as Sarnax's self-introduction goes on, he goes from On Edge to over it. If he was alive, this would be about the time he'd try to Glimpse this strange new... companion. But he's not alive, and his magic hasn't worked for Shepherd's entire life, and it doesn't start working now.

"Oh gods, he's getting closer, back up back up back up! Where the fuck did you survival instinct go?! BACK UP! Don't shake his ha- you shook his hand. That's it, we're fucked."

"Sarnax, can we trust you?"

"Finally, you're using your fucking brain! No we cannot! This guy is way too obsessed with fire and dragons, okay?! I knew a guy who literally got fire magic directly from a fucking dragon, and he was nowhere near this weird about it, okay? Big fucking difference, and-and Taishen had a lot more reason to be weird about fire."

And then they follow him into the dark and dangerous forest. And they set up camp. And Shepherd fall asleep.

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"Hey, hey!" Skrimm barrels right into the dream, storming through whatever it was before, the whole environment turning into the deck of a ship sunk so long ago that only the dead remember it now. He storms right up to Shepherd, climbs up, and scowls in his face. "What the fuck are you getting yourself into?!"

"Get offa me!" Shepherd tries to yank Skrimm off, but Skrimm's been working with dreams for decades now. He keeps a tight hold, unmoving. "What in the nine hells!"

"Yeah, that's exactly where you're sending us! This professor is either a moron, a secret evil mastermind, or both, that 'guide' you just met is a fucking pyromaniac, and the only person with any gods-damned sense in this whole group is the person who's job is to just be an assistant! This 'archeological dig' is about to be your fucking gravesite if you don't book it right now!"

"What in the hell-"

"Don't even try to fucking argue with me on this, look around us when you wake up! We're in the middle of fucking nowhere, you didn't tell Doc all the details because you didn't know all the details, and we are surrounded by weirdos!"

"I'm not turnin' my back on them! I was hired to protect 'em, and I will!"

"I love money as much as anyone, but this can't be worth it! You gotta feel like you're walking into danger, I do and I'm not even doing the walking!"

"I'm not leavin' 'em vulnerable and alone."

"But you will be safe and home!"

"I don't even know who you are!"

"I'm your fucking common sense, apparently! Do you know how bad things have to be for me to be the common sense?!"

It goes on, around and around, and Skrimm just can't get through to him. The whole night spent on that ill-fated ship, arguing as storms rage silently around them, and as Shepherd starts to wake up-

Oh, that sound. Wood crashing against ice. Cracking, breaking, ending.

He'll never forget that sound.

Shepherd wakes up, gasping a little. Skrimm sits next to him, staring at the dirt.

That sound once spelled out the death of dozens.

Skrimm hopes against hope that it's not an omen.

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It's two days into the dig that Shepherd is sat beside Sarnax, watching the woods, the two together merely because Victoria and Clayton as busy sketching the ruins.

Sarnax has already done his obligatory preaching at Shepherd, and it's been silent since.

An awkward silence.

Something snaps a twig in the woods, and Shepherd's hand goes right to his hip. A moment later, a fat mouse scurries out of the trees and into a hole in the ground.

Shepherd relaxes, just a bit, as Sarnax eyes him.

"Do you fear something is coming, Shepherd?"

"No, no. Just a little... on edge."

"Yes, you are. You have been on edge since yesterday."

"... Been havin' unusual dreams, is all. ... Standin' on a big ship while it's stormin', and some little fuckin'... I can't remember what it is, but it's screamin' at me that I'm gonna die, and it don't mean the ship. And right before I wake up, it crashes."

Sarnax raises his lantern, peering closely at Shepherd. "... I, too, have dreamt of a ship in a storm. I am visited by a large figure, something I know to be... the opposite, of my god's purifying flame. It has tried, throughout my life, to turn me away from Gherix, and my order."

"Really?"

"It speaks in a bellowing voice, unlike any I have known. It tells me that I am being mislead, and am denied what I need to have freedom, and choice."

"And... what do you make of these dreams?"

"I believe they are sent to mislead me. They are from a being that wishes to deter me from Gherix's path, and cannot be trusted. When I dream of this ship, I awaken feeling stronger than ever in my faith."

"... And you think mine might be the same. Misleadin'."

"I do."

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Skrimm stares up at Sarnax.

He tries to find something. Anything. Any hint that Sarnax might be-

That Barnabos is-

It's absurd. It's impossible! Skrimm is here because his soul is fucked up, right? ... But maybe, maybe it wasn't Jack. What if he's here because of his death from The Spirit? Barnabos was eaten too, so-

But Sarnax is so... not Barnabos.

... Then again, Shepherd is not Skrimm.

But if Barnabos were here, why wouldn't Skrimm be able to see him? They're both ghosts, right? Presumably for the same reason? So he can't be here.

... But a ship in a storm, a large bellowing figure, ranting about freedom and choice...

It's too coincidental to be a coincidence, right?

"Y'know, the professor seems to know a bit about omens." Shepherd looks back at the ruins. "Maybe we outta ask him his opinion on these dreams."

"I do not need his opinion on my dreams. I am sure of what they mean."

"Right. I meant mostly mine, and maybe you just mention yours bein' similar."

"You began having these dreams of the ship only last night, did you not?"

"I did."

"After your first time coming to know of Gherix's burning light."

"... I suppose I can't say you're wrong about that, but I'm not jumpin' to any conclusions just yet, Sarnax."

It a few hours until Clayton and Victoria finally come back for dinner around the campfire, and Shepherd comes right out with the questions.

"-ends up sinkin'. Now I don't usally go puttin' too much weight onto dreams, professor, but this feels different, and you've had a few cases on this journey of knowin' things just before they happen. I want your input on this."

Clayton's jaw is tight as he stares into his meal. "... I... won't like to you, Shepherd, this is... deeply concerning." He looks up, as though searching the stars for answers. "I have also had dreams about a ship in a storm, much like you've described, and a large figure giving me warnings."

Sarnax leans forward slightly, the focus of his lantern's light all on Clayton. "Does it bellow, professor?"

"No, no, quite the opposite. It speaks in flat tones, and though I cannot tell you what this figure looks like I can tell you that it is something old, and wise. I've been warned against many courses of action, and... even reprimanded for others. It speaks to me as shortly as possible, in an accent I've... never been able to place. I'd always assumed it was some... manifestation of my inner turmoils, or perhaps my magic leaking into my sleeping mind."

Shepherd leans forward, resting on arm on his knee. "And now?"

"... Now, hearing that you have had similar dreams... I wonder if something else might be at play." Clayton looks into his meal again. "... I'll see if I brought any books with me about prophetic dreams. It's... all I can offer at the moment. But if you both would like me to continue looking into it after this expedition, I'd invite you to accompany me back to the university. We could study this much more effectively there."

"I do not know if I would be willing... or welcomed, so far from the Edelwood. I would need to consult with my order."

"An I don' know about goin' that far from home without knowin' how long I'd be gone just for some dreams, Professor."

"Of course, of course. Take your time to consider it. In the meanwhile, if we could continue comparing our experiences throughout this expedition, perhaps even noting them down! Victoria, if you wouldn't mind- in fact, have you any dream experience to add to this?"

She shakes her head, already noting down the stories at Clayton's request. "I've never had any dreams like yours."

"Even more mysterious." Clayton picks at his meal instead of eats it, lost in thought for the rest of the waking night.

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Skrimm gapes.

"No. No no no, no. That's not possible." Skrimm climbs up Clayton and tries to rap his knuckles against the man's forehead, but of course his hand just goes right through. "Jornir! Are you stuck in this bastard's head?!"

No answer. Just like there was no answers from Barnabos all day.

"There's no way you have Jornir following you around," Skrimm says, trying to grab Clayton by the cheekbones. "You're the least trustworthy person I've ever met, including myself! ... Alright, I'm maybe stretching it there, but you're not trying to be untrustworthy and that makes it like, ten times worse. And Jornir was the most reliable person I ever knew, even when it was really, really irritating for him to be!"

Skrimm climbs up to stand on the top of Clayton's hat and scans around them. "If you've got Jornir haunting you, he's got even less input than I do."

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"Mr. Jornir?" Barnabos waves his hand in front of Clayton's face. He walks around him in a circle, puts his hands to his mouth, and shouts as loudly as he can, "MR. JORNIR, CALL OUT IF YOU'RE WITH US, OR SEND A SIGN FROM YOUR GODS!"

Nothing. No signs from Jornir, nor The Triad. Barnabos puts hsi hands down and waits.

Still... nothing. The world is deaf to him, blind to him, dead to him.

"Aye, I knew it was too good to be true. Still just us, then." He turns back to Sarnax. "I wonder if Mr. Fireblossom 'ould be able to get through to you. Suppose I'll try somethin' new tonight. Maybe try to make it li' that Kolbold bonfire this time."

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Jornir sits cross-legged beside Clayton and heaves out a great, heavy sigh.

"There is no hope, then." He looks once more at Shepherd and Sarnax, and sees only them.

No-one familiar.

"If you are here," he says, raising his eye to the starry sky. "May the gods guide us all. I know... we will need it."

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

I don't know if your still doing match ups but, if you are, I would like a match up for my character, any gender, and I'm fine with both npcs and compainion

Their name is Rhiannon they're a Mephistopheles Tiefling bard, that go by any pronoun.

They love animals, the arts, mythology, spicy food, getting praised, and giving the personal middle finger to those who cause problems for the little guys (Aka causing problems, like 'oh you want to use the bathroom, have fun with no toilet paper kind of problems). There is a chance if pushed far enough, like really far, like you just murder a group of babies, that she will go 'they will want death, but I won't give it to them, because it's too good for them.'

Is mostly okay with murder, with idea that 'Killing people is okay if they tried to kill you first' but won't kill animals or children because soft spots and raised with morals. He will listen to both sides of the story but will try to be unbiased.

She has a human father, unknown Tiefling mother, and human half-sister.

I always picture him with blue skin, small baby cow sized black horns, and white hair, rather light.

Hates the dark or not being able to see, has abandonment issues, and not sure what they want in life.

Most of all a silly little guy that loves music and needs to feel loved.

A/N: Hello Anon! I could have sworn, I’ve read about a Tav named Rhiannon before… I think from other writers? I looked to see if I could find the post because I wondered who they paired you with, but I didn’t come across it again. Oh well. As for your Rhiannon, in MY personal opinion, I think they’d best be matched with… either Karlach (Female) or Dammon (Male)!

Karlach would be a great match for Rhiannon as she is so optimistic and verbal in her love and appreciation for the people and the world around her. Karlach, despite all she’s endured, is still very open and trusting when it comes to her emotions.

As a fellow tiefling, Karlach understands a good bit about tiefling biology and culture. She most definitely experienced discrimination while she was working under Gortash in Baldur’s Gate. She’s also fiercely protective of the ones she loves, so if anyone comes for Rhiannon because they’re a tiefling, they better watch out- barbarian girlfriend on the defense!

Based on Karlach’s reactions to Scratch and the Owlbear cub, it’s safe to say that she enjoys animals as well. She’d be up for raising a pet together, whichever pet Rhiannon would prefer. She also appreciates the arts, even if she’s not the most knowledgeable about them. Karlach would need Rhiannon to explain the art form/technique being utilized. And spicy food? Oh boy! Spicy food is Karlach’s middle name. Even though she’ll eat just about anything (and I mean anything), spicy food is her favorite. She also gives loads of praise, so good thing Rhiannon loves being praised, otherwise, he might get embarrassed by Karlach’s constant compliments and encouragement.

Karlach is also fairly level-headed, with a similar protective side. Together she and Rhiannon make up for a pretty solid moral compass, and everyone respects them as such. With Karlach bringing the strength, and Rhiannon bringing the music, they’re the perfect yin-yang couple!

Dammon would also be a pretty good match (at least in my opinion). He’s kindhearted and soft-spoken and not one prone to violence. He’s a craftsman, not a fighter, like Rhiannon, so he understands the nature of their expertise, often being underestimated.

Obviously, as another tiefling himself, Dammon appreciates the fact that Rhiannon can relate to the discrimination and hardships he’s been through. Being a refugee from Elteral has definitely taken its toll on Dammon and a cheery and silly little music loving guy is exactly the kind of partner he needs to bring joy back into his life.

Dammon having a more orange complexion looks really well when standing next to Rhiannon with her blue complexion- their appearance and personal outfit styles compliment one another really well.

Overall a life shared with Dammon would be much more quiet, and wholesome, as opposed to a life of fighting and adventuring with Karlach, but if a nice quiet life to just play music is what Rhiannon is looking for, Dammon would be the best choice for him.

I hope you enjoyed!

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