#that's not really how dnd is marketed

[taamlok]

i love coming on here and finding out everyone lost their damn mind while i slept

[britcision]

Indie ttrpg designers

We seem to be back in the “dnd sucks why don’t you just play Other Games (yours)” and I have a single question for you in return

Do I get to roll a d20?

Because I like the d20

That shape pleases me

I do not wish to roll a random amount of d6s or d8s or any of them other fuckers

I wish to roll the d20 because icosahedrons please me

I will also accept d12 but the other shapes all have less mouthfeel so if that’s what your game’s based on, it is not for me

I’d also prefer more than four stats but I’m not gonna lie it is the shape of the math rocks so like

Rec your d20 based indie ttrpgs friends cuz every single one I’ve opened is them little cube fuckers or the double pyramid and I Require Round

[northern-passage]

Is sign language something the Order teaches?

After asking that, I realise that it's much more likely that Handlers learn it as part of their education (being the one who engages with the common folk out of the duo).

But what if a Hunter wanted to learn it? Would they have to request being taught as well?

And outside of the Order, how is sign language treated in the overall world?

it is, actually! sign language is pretty widely taught as a second language in Adrania. that's not to say that everyone is fluent, though, and there are different dialects just like in real life (ie ASL vs BASL) if someone is fortunate enough to receive schooling they will typically study common sign language (which is mainly used for trade and is very formal), but whether or not they retain it and can still understand it varies from person to person, and again there are variations that will differ from the basic common version taught in a school. with the class divide in Adrania, i also imagine there would be a drastic difference between the culture and sign of lower classes (who most likely will not have received any kind of education) and the upper classes.

and you're right, Lea is the one that is more proficient in it between the two, mainly because they are the one doing most of the talking. the hunter has a basic understanding and can typically interpret signs, but isn't the best at signing themself. if you go with Merry in Blackwater, you can see her, Mal, and Branwen all sign to each other, with Branwen actually being hoh. the hunter recognizes that Branwen calls Merry a bastard, but for the most part the three sign too fast for the hunter to understand. Merry and Mal will continue to use sign throughout the story, and they actually use a variation that neither the hunter nor Lea will recognize, even if they were signing slower; think of it like the thieves cant, but in sign.

[pagesofkenna]

literally none of these comments are actually engaging with the actual point the original OP was making, which is that 5e (a product owned by the Hasbro company) isn't the thing that facilitates great improvised stories and roleplay with no need for combat: it's skilled game masters who do that

I generally love Brennan but he went on this baffling rant in a fireside episode of the Worlds Beyond Numbers podcast about how he likes 5e because it has a great social system that doesn't get in the way of the kind of story he wants to tell—which is really only possible because, as an experienced improvisor and storyteller, he has made the executive decision to ignore almost the entire 5e product, using only a relatively small aspect of it for that game (basic character building plus skill checks). and that's fine! it's like playing a homebrew boardgame using a chess set, which honestly sounds really fun and i might design that!

but my main point here is that combat is baked into the 5e product. character creation and advancement revolves around combat. the ruleset was balanced for combat (i.e., the character classes are intended to be equally useful in combat). the first two arcs of the Worlds Beyond Number podcast have leveled the characters up to... 2? because combat utility (i.e. character advancement) is so unimportant to the 5e product when you're not doing the thing it's primarily designed to do, i.e. combat

If you have a hard time improvising low-combat games in 5e, using pre-written modules can be great to get you to understand how to incorporate combat better; what they're generally not going to do is help you learn how to run a high-roleplay low-combat game (though some materials, generally not the ones commissioned by Hasbro, can!)

there are, on the other hand, other products that are designed to help game masters run high-roleplay low-combat games! this is the what all those annoying 'try something besides dnd!' people are trying to say: it's not 'dnd sucks' but 'these other games are good at other things, and will help you figure out how to do those things better than trying to force them into dnd will'

if you don't mind running combat and the 5e product is working fine for you, great! to extend the original OP's metaphor, it's one recipe and maybe it's a recipe you really like. but if you're trying to avoid meat, taking a meat recipe and just not using meat won't yield the same kind of results as trying out a new vegetarian recipe

Op disabled rbs but they’re right and more people need to read this a few times over

[hairmetal666]

Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.

And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 

So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.

They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."

After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.

He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.

And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.

Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."

He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.

Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.

Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.

They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"

And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."

Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"

"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."

He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."

Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."

His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.

The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.

The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"

The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.

Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.

It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"

Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."

He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."

"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."

"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.

---

The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.

He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."

Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."

The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.

Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.

He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.

They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.

When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 

---

Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.

The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.

It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--

Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.

He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.

He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.

Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.

"Okay?" Wayne asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.

He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"

And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."

And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."

[mangomybeloved]

i hate to say it, like i love watcher, but my thoughts on them leaving youtube is this is too much too soon, like the bulk of their fans are probs younger/unable to afford another subscription fee, plus youtube has always been where they've been?? it's just so stark to go from this being the site you put your content on for years and then to go full cold turkey, no more posting on youtube ever

and i'll be honest, they don't have enough content to warrant a separate site/subscription all together. dropout is able to pull it off because they have the full rotation of shows and cast as well (dnd, game changer, etc), whereas for watcher, they only have a few couple really successful shows and those are primarily only focused on ryan and shane.

and tbh, i don't think they have a big enough audience to launch it either, like their marketing team could do better on advertising their shows! like, i haven't been keeping up with their recent shows cause either i don't see it on my youtube algorithm at all or i have to go out of my way to go see it.

and i don't know this just feels like a kick to the face to their fans, like even dropout has shorts on youtube and keeps up all their content on youtube like some episodes and the entirety of season one of fantasy high, and now i'm seeing in the comments, that their international fans outside of the usa won't even able to subscribe cause of how payment works which is :///, so yeah, watcher, it's been nice knowing ya, but i don't know how this move will turn out for you, i'm sorry to say

[elodieunderglass]

It's not really my business, but honestly it feels like it would be advisable to hire a copyright lawyer. Like I don't feel like you're in it for the money, but it might be gratifying to have the guy milking your idea at least have to formally acknowledge you. I think I'd do it just for the peace of mind to know if I've been "legally" wronged or not. Either way, hope you continue to inspire, and live out a peaceful life.

(In reference to this post about the guy who pretends to have invented “Elder Teletubbies,” specifically how he is now kickstarting DnD minis of them.)

Ha, well, it’s all a little tricky I think. I might, hilariously, post on the r/legaladvice Reddit (even though they’re all cops lol) because the only thing I want here is for him to stop selling my “transformative work,” and ideally to stop pretending he invented it (which might be difficult as he appears to fully believe his work is creatively independent.)

I think if anything, my post counts as protected commentary or a transformative work of BBC’s Teletubbies, and I think it’s stinky to profit on that stuff in general (like I’m 190% okay with buying LotR fanart on stickers ! but I wouldn’t dream of trying to publish a fic with the serial numbers filed off. Why?)

I think ultimately I’m not a grifter, I’m a grownup, and I think it’s several levels of eye roll to sell fanart of a tv show on this level. I would be embarrassed to touch money made on that. I’m too fucking scrupulous and artisanal. I have toyed with a silly original novel for funsies since 2019 but keep saying things like, “oh, people will think this is too similar to something else that already exists” as if a silly original novel I write for fun has to somehow pass a Bar of Originality higher than anything salary-writers aim for.

I’m also pretty anti-intellectual-property myself in that leftist sense where I don’t believe people should be acting as if creative works are, like, oil. Like the resource extraction angle of intellectual property freaks me out, I don’t think getting super high-horse and snotty about Magical Brain Property is entirely compatible with the artisanal temperament I personally got going on here. I am like snufkin about this, simply smoking a pipe and making a flower crown saying “poor fools! Producing works for market, and serving as the guard dogs of the market, lest their work lose value if it becomes more common!” I do not have a high horse. I am not going to post 6900 words about the importance of defending fucking… Mickey Mouse. I buy those lotr stickers on Etsy! I do have a horse, but it’s a pretty low horse.

If it was his own work I would not care about this guy doing this in the least (apart from loftily calling it stinky - but hey, nerds are common and nerds are stinky, it’s not rare) IF he wasn’t STEALING FROM MY ANTI-COMMERCIALISATION DREAM TO DO IT.

That’s the bit that PISSES ME OFF too much to ignore: that and accepting compliments for being original like 😌 yes my twisted mind did this idk lol.

Like if you asked him point blank about the artistic choices he’d be like idk my twisted mind just sees the Teletubbies this way teehee! but if you ask ME why, for example, the adult Teletubbies live in the forest I’ll explain that in 2017 I was at a major life crossroads and this dream was ABOUT that. It was goodbye to my identity as a foreigner from the pine forests, and full steam ahead to settling permanently in the fucking shire (where the baby teletubbies on the bbc show live). It was about going back to work having had my first child, and saying goodbye to my various career dreams for myself (famous scientist! Published author!) as I chose instead, finally, the responsibility of working humbly as a public servant for the actual good of society. It is about witnessing the wild and saying “I am not of it, but it is my job to be its witness and voice.” That’s why the adult Teletubbies are dancing in my native forests while I’m watching them from the English hills. This guy doesn’t know that he just vaguely heard “spooky forest cryptid” and didn’t develop it at all, I do more work than that with FANFICTION in my time off!!!

So it’s really about nebulous stuff and ethics and not something worth paying a lawyer for I think!

But thank you so much for this, I think the thing that gets most perennial about it is the TOTAL GASLIGHTING of the “outside world” of the rest of the internet like, fully believing they invented this, and they DIDNT. They’re so wrong on the internet and they don’t know

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

[alpaca-clouds]

The DnD Lore Problem - Accessibility and Characters (and how BG3 might not help)

You know what? I am gonna talk about DnD Lore and the accessibility of that lore. I talked about this exessively before. But to summarize that long blog very shortly:

Wizards of the Coasts currently makes the mistake of putting basically most DnD Lore behind a paywall, rather than offering official ressources. This leads to a lot of tables actually playing with their original worlds, rather than Toril/Faerûn, which in turn also means, that they are not spending money on official products. While my anti-capitalist ass things that the lore should be accessible just so that people can enjoy it, I also think that this inaccessibility actually costs WotC A LOT OF MONEY.

Today I want to talk about another aspect of this inaccessibility, that is kinda linked to some of the stuff I talked about before, but also is linked to the things WotC is currently not doing in terms of both Honor Among Thieves and Baldur's Gate 3. A thing, that also might not quite work with BG3, though.

See, the core problem of this inaccessibility is, that a) there is no official place where you can just get base information about the world and the timeline, b) this world has grown organically for about half a century, which lead to clutter, but also to the fact that things are at times showing their age.

I might actually make a post on the gods and religion in the world at some other point - but for now let me talk about something else: Extended universes and access points.

The Problem with Extended Universes

Okay, let's talk about how a lot of the big franchises for the longest time have told their meta stories - including DnD - and how it kinda struggles to find its audience. The extended universe.

I am frankly not entirely sure what franchise has started this. I am assuming it was Star Trek? But that is just a guess. But at some point in the 60s oder 70s someone had the idea that: "Hey, we could totally give the fans more to chew on by making official tie-in comics and novels!"

And that was how it worked for very long. Like a lot of the big franchises had at times around 10 novels and comics (if not more) releasing per year that would just explore other parts of the universe and allow the very engaged fans to... well, learn more about the world. Now, I am not going to talk about all the drama connected to the Star Wars stuff, but if you know, you know.

DnD did this too. (As did a lot of the big TTRPG systems, like Shadowrun and WoD as well.) Having a lot of tie in stuff - in the case of DnD mostly novels - that told more stories on the world and also established like some big player characters within the world. Elminster Aumar is probably one of the best examples here.

Those established some characters that play a big role within the world and also told just more stories of those big world changing events. In the recent DnD history that would be stuff like the Time of Troubles, the Spellplague and the Second Sundering.

Now, here we have one big issue. And one issue where I am not entirely certain where it arose from. But the fact is: In recent years, people invest way less into those kind of books. This is just a fact.

It is the reason why those big universes went from publishing like ten novels a year to often not more than three. We saw that in the failure of the extended Universe Disney tried to pull off for Pirates of the Caribbean (though I will still maintain that another big problem was that they barely marketed that at all - hi, everyone, who did not know there were extended universe novels for PotC). We also saw that with League of Legends, who really, really tried to tell a lot more stories with short stories and then also some novels set in Runeterra, before finally giving up, because most people didn't care.

In terms of Dungeons & Dragons I can totally see that a lot of people will also say: "I do not care what some other people's characters do within the world." Buuuuuut...

Stories actually can help you understand the world. Which brings me to...

The Elminster Problem

Okay, I do not know how to put this, but... If you look at the novels coming out for DnD literally half of them focus on either Elminster Aumar or Drizzt Do'Urden. Characters that have pretty much been around since the very beginning and. Look, I don't know how to put it but... It shows.

I am currently reading some of the newer novels and the fact is, that they do not really feel like fantasy books from the 2010s and 2020s. Because Elminster and Drizzt are very clearly characters originating in a very different time when stories were told very differently.

I mean, just look at Elminster. He is a wanna-be Gandalf character. He is from the early, early days of fantasy and... Look, I personally just really am unable to identify with a character like this.

And while Drizzt is a bit better as a character, but even he... How to put this delicately? They are both very much characters written by white cishet men for white cishet men. There, I said it.

I am noticing this a lot with reading Salvatore's books currently. Like, female characters are not overly sexualized, which is a plus. But they also very much exist most of the time in service to a man or at least in relation to a man. There is not a lot of female characters running around that have their own agency.

Which kinda leads to another thing. I actually saw this one brought up by one of those very cliché nerdy Youtube channels talking on DnD, who recognized the problem as well: There are basically two large groups of DnD players who barely intersect. One is the cliché nerds, the other is a largely queer and largely diverse group. And the youtube guy, who was very in the white cishet nerd group, suspected that actually the later group makes up more of the player base by now.

Buuuut... that is also the group who really do not get catered to by the canon lore so far. That was until 2023 with DnD:HAT and BG3 - both catering actually a lot to those groups.

Honor Among Thieves and the undermarketed books

Okay, here is the thing: Honor Among Thieves had two novelizations (one for young readers, one for older readers) and two tie-in novels. One featuring Edgin, Holga, Forge and Simon before the stuff with Sofina went down. And the other featuring Simon and Doric taking place at the time while Ed and Holga are in prison.

I am honest: I really, really liked the Ed and Holga novel. It was super cute and charming and really gives a better understanding of the characters.

But of course once again there is the thing: The books - just like the Pirates of the Caribbean books - were super undermarketed. Like, most people I know off do not even know that there were books released. Heck, even within the actual active fandom there are again and again people who will be surprised that those books exist.

And... I actually also think that the books waste one big ass opportunity, by not at all tying into the broader lore. They are super self-contained.

And that is actually just a waste. Because the place were Edgin lived in? Yeah, that place was super affected by the Second Sundering. Heck, that might have had to do something with his troubles.

Why is that an issue? Well, because... there was not a lot going on there that was inviting you to further interact with the world and learn more abotu what is happening. For once, again, because I think it is a super fun and interesting world. But also, because... WotC wants to make money and is so bad at it, that it really boggles my mind.

See, here is the thing: They could've used those characters - that really are fun and sympathetic characters - to create an accesspoint into that world.

Alright, so what about Baldur's Gate 3?

Which brings me to Baldur's Gate 3 and the thing that a lot of people have noticed: The other Baldur's Gate games - as well as some of the other games releasing around 2000 - had their own tie-in novels going into the characters, their background, but also what they were doing in the future.

Something that so far BG3 has not done, which some fans have already critized. Because a lot of people have actually gotten really invested into those characters. A lot of the kind of people especially who so far are underserved by a lot of the tie-in stuff: Queer and generally diverse audiences.

Like, I think there would be a lot of people, who totally would read a novel, about...

Astarion getting drawn into some sort of political intrigue in Baldur's Gate while serving Cazador

Karlach's time in Avernus

Some Adventure Wyll got dragged into while being the Blade of the Frontier.

Shadowheart going onto a mission for Shar (maybe together with Nocturne)

Whatever Gale was doing during the Second Sundering

Lae'zel's youth among the Githyanki

The Dark Urge and Gortash starting up the entire conspiracy

... whatever Halsin had been up to in his long live

Heck, people would eat that stuff up. And you could not only use it to worldbuild but also once more create some access into the world and what happened there. And they are kinda wasting a lot of potential by not bringing out those novels.

Of course, there is one big problem: BG3 makes it kinda hard to write about anything happening after the ending. Because as it is right now, someone is gonna be pissed if a novel set after the game does not go with the decision for a character they go for. Like, Ascended Astarion fans are gonna be pissed, if they go with Spawn Astarion - and the other way around. Same goes with every other character where you have those big decisions happening.

This is something they will have to tackle eventually if they plan on doing something with the characters in the future (no matter if we are talking Larian or WotC), but it is definitely an issue that just arises from the structure of the game.

Bonus of course is, that you just cannot define a canonical Tav. But without a Tav, you also gotta act as if the story of the game happened without a Tav, which still is not ideal. I am honestly not sure with how they are gonna deal with this on the long run.

Access via Characters

Alright, but what is the actual issue here?

Well, basically there are two hurdles to overcome for the accessibility of the lore. The first is the physical accessibility - aka, what I talked about in the last long blog post. The second meanwhile is more related to making the lore engaging. And that happens through characters.

It is for me what happened last year. I actually tried to engage with the lore as the movie came out - but only when BG3, that tied a lot more into the actual lore was released I actually found proper access to the lore. Because I had concrete things I could now look for because the game hinted at so much both through characters and major story events happening.

Here is the thing: If you just have the lore on its own, it is about as engaging as reading a history book. Sure, as your local history nerd I find reading history books fun, but most people really do not want to read a history book to engage with a hobby.

People will however engage with stories and characters that interest them. Which is where we get back to the thing I talked about at the beginning: Right now most canonical novels and stories still cater to an audience that is male, cishet, white and also, let's be frank, definitely over 30 years old. Leaving behind a lot of potential fans that theoretically make up a big part of the player-base, but actually do not engage a lot with the lore for this exact reason.

Look. DnD right now is fairly close to being an actual mainstream hobby, due to the recent proliferation of formerly nerdy stuff. And yet WotC is bleeding money, especially in regards of DnD.

If you ask me, sure... DnD should go into public domain. But it doesn't. And given that there are so many creative, skilled people working on this - no matter how dumb Hasbro is and how shitty of an employer they are - I actually do want them to succeed. I have really become engaged with this world now. And I think it is a pity that they clearly do not know how to market this stuff.

[glitchgh0sty]

Don’t mind me,, just writing a thing for the first time in forever [Transformers x dnd mayhem] ⚔️🐉🤖

Transformers Cursed Knights au, chp 1 [under cut <33]

Jazz always loved the night. Under the dim light of a bio lit city. The constant sway of metal, wood and magic pulsing through the air finally ebbing as the bright twisted sun hides its face. Jazz always loved the dark, how its comforting grasp could hide the details of his face. He had just finished the longest shift ever near the tips of the city's necropolis and had positively smiled his own face stiff from under that spotlight’s harsh gaze.

Clenching and unclenching his hands, as they were sore and calloused from countless days of playing the lute, people shouted in his mind and at his face, “Play another Rico! Nono, not that one,, bard play something else. Can you sing any louder? Why must you pick these disgraceful tunes? Play the Primes ballad, play the primes ballad, play the primes ballad!” Request, after request running through his mind on repeat

They always ask for the Ballad of the Primes.

It’s not even a cool story really, Jazz didn’t understand why the court marshals would keep begging him to sing it.

‘Once upon a sunny day, toil in the heat as you may,, under the crown of a filthy king, who controlled the world with an iron fist, near free thought or lovely bliss,, how dare ye Pax, how dare ye still,, loose your monsters on us all, you beg us to plead and fall,, under their talons, breath and teeth,, you and your court of beasts shall fall, make room for the primes, make room for us all,, your heart is made of metal and your mind is made of flame,, so you how dare you betray what you have sewn,, your 13 beasts of burden flatten hills far and wide, all around our country from far side to side, so fall down fall down fall down to the pit from hence you came, we banish you and your unlawful crew to death on this day,,

Doodoodoo yada yada yada,, keep the monsters out, keep us safe and sound oh court of high. Something like that.’

Court. Safe.

Pft- Filthy rich little buggers.

He had been playing for the noblemen that night on the necropolis. People who were in good with the court, so his coin bag agreed to his sacrifice as he swayed down the street. Rico was a name he had supplied to nearly every employer he had as a way to save his face, determined to keep his theatrical and personal life as separate as possible.

Not that it often worked though. As people would call him out down at the market, on strolls across the energon fields, down at the metal smither’s and around every local energy deposit, all swarming and swooning for his voice.

He was borderline sick of it. But hey, that’s just business, his coin bag replied.

He hadn’t had time to change into his commoner clothes before rushing out of the venue so he messed with the cloth of his extravagant collar uncomfortably. It was worth it though, to get out of there so that the light of his spot on the stage might not unmask his disdain for this whole charade.

Whatever

He opened up his side vents a bit to grasp the cool air of the night and ex vented as he entered the field that marked his home. He would have chosen a place a little closer to his buddy Blaster, but the town of Nevercon was only insufferable nowadays. He looked around the comforting dark and decided to scope out a long way home today. I mean what the heck, if he had only the night to breathe, then he might as well wander, without the prying eyes of the town reaching for his voice.

His voice, his voice, his voice..

He was tired of it all, too tired to sing for himself really anymore so he wandered to the border of the woods in silence, letting the noises of the energon stalks swaying in the field and the sound of his own feet on the damp mulch fill the void instead.

He made his way around the woods, enjoying the calm of the night. Passing the trees one by one, over streams and around logs. The berries of the wood and the spirits of the night glowed dimly in the eve so that he knew where to put his feet but not much more.

Thirty minutes, an hour? had passed in the dim of the night before he began to grow weary of his steps. Maybe he should turn around? He had never really come this far before? He dismissed that thought almost as soon as he’d had it. As the further he wandered away from the town, the lighter the weight on his chest had become. He felt like he could finally breathe. But he was growing tired. Maybe he could spend the night out in the woods, like he used to before the court had closed the borders.

He used to wander the world, bringing his tales from land to land, song in his heart, lute in his hand, and not a coin in his bag. But those days were long gone and his expensive regalia itched at his joints uncomfortably as he contemplated sitting down. His outfits were tailored for him by the people who asked for his services, so he would probably never hear the end of it from his employers if they found so much as a speck of dirt on it.

Deciding to quit testing his luck in the dark for the night, Jazz turned to start making his way back to the shabby little house on the hill, but was soon caught dead in his tracks. He listened for the sounds of the world, and his muscles tightened as he could no longer hear anything, any response from said world at all. No whistling wind through the trees, no twinkle of spark lights, no spark lights at all?? It was like the forest was holding it’s breath, lying in wait for something. Or someone.

When did everything get so quiet?

The stories he told came rushing back to his mind suddenly, though he had been singing them all day long. ‘Loose your monsters on us all,’

There’s no way that’s right, his mind whispered with a start as his hands started to sweat. Jazz had been told tales of these woods by worried passerbys, Red Alert for the most part, but nobody had really believed him. Monsters were a thing of legend, and everyone had told Jazz that Red Alert had a screw loose. These were just stories people make up for nothing but entertainment. Jazz would know. But he couldn’t fight the countless memories, quips, tales he had seen countless people whisper about them all the same from tavern to tavern, town to town.

Listening for a moment more, Jazz made up his mind. He was going to run back home like a blitz of thunder and hope to the dead Primus that nothing would catch him. But just before he started off, he heard it. A thump, soft but audible. Or was it more of a bump? No, that would imply that something is here right? But he couldn’t see anything. Ooh he was in it now. Rubbing his sweaty hands on his vest as quietly as he could, Jazz resolved to pick the closest tree he could get his hands on, duck behind it, and prey whatever’s here has absolutely horrible nighttime eyesight. He couldn’t risk trying to run away from a creature of the night, especially in these stiff garments.

Feeling his way around, he cursed as the chains and beads around his sheathed flute let off a light jingle. Stifling that noise with one hand he felt around with the other.

Come on people. Trees?? I’m in the MIDDLE of a FOREST. This shouldn’t be that hard…

Jazz really couldn’t see a thing.

Feeling around and grasping at nothing but air for a while his hand finally slammed into something!

A tree! a smooth. cold tree. Wait. Smooth!?

Jazz gasped in silent disbelief and kept his hand as still as he could muster, though it felt like his spark was trying to claw out of his throat.

Maybe, whatever is here, doesn’t know I am here? I mean who am I kidding, maybe it’s a rock? Yeah, a very cold, smooth, shifting, cool rock. Wait no, that doesn’t work.

Jazz tilted his head up to try to understand the sounds around him, silently hoping the forest would give him a hint as to what his hand might be pressed against.

The ‘rock’ expanded a little, just enough to really test Jazz’s resolve before a low rumble shook the ground beneath his show boots.

Rocks don’t make noise. They shouldn’t make noise? Rocks don’t thump, rocks don’t beat,

Jazz shifted his fingers in desperation, surely hoping he had misread his predicament. As a slow but steady pulse ran up his fingers and down his spine.

Yep no, I read that right the first time, rocks don’t thump, rocks don’t rumble, rocks don’t beat. Holy Primus..

Rocks don’t breathe…

————————————————————————

Thank you @paradoxtheconfused for convincing me to write something after not having picked up the pen for literal years TuT <333

Some context ✨:

[as-i-watch]

Hypothetical: Straw Hat DnD night. How do you think it goes?

I imagine something along the lines of:

Like everything else the Straw Hats do, it will end in chaos

Usopp is the DM, bc he has the talent to spin a yarn and make it so interesting and he's quick on his toes to go with whatever bullshit they throw at him

Nami is the one that keeps the group on check and pretty much the leader of the party. She is in charge of the money. Maybe plays as a wizard

Sanji straight up plays out his fantacy of being a knight in shinning armour. Constantly gets caught up and drags the group in side-quests to help damsels in distress. He is a paladin bound to the divine cause of save the ladies, all the ladies

Zoro has no interests in roleplaying and sleeps for most of the campaing...until there's a fight. He mocks the bad guys weapons and criticize their fighting style. He plays a barbarian who used three swords (if it aint broken)

Chopper is the one that's the most excited about the roleplay. He wears costumes and does voices and sound effects while he plays. He plays a wizard bc he loves casting fireballs (he feels terrible when a party memeber gets caught up in the blast)

Robin brings up the darkest shit ever seen. Her charecter is fucked up in the head but is the reason the rest of the party is alive. She's the one that solves all the puzzles. She plays a claric who maybe is a bit too much into necromancy

Brook got way into the game when he learned he could sing. He plays a bard ofc bc he lives for the music (even tho he's not alive) Comic relief duo with Franky. Enjoys way too much the shopping trips and makes Usopp play all the NPCs in the market.

Franky is the less serious monk you'll ever meet. He liked the martial arts part of the class but he will double class as a bard bc he constantly joins Brook on his performances. He is the one that always tries to flirt with the monster.

Luffy has cero impulse control and is the reason the game moves but never in the direction Usopp plans. He plays a fighter and is punching his way through the campaign. Keeps getting mad he cant roleplays his gommu gommu no attacks in the game. Eventualy gets distracted and ends up playing with the minis

(i really dont know that much about dnd classes, i've only watched the first campaign of critical role but you all get the idea)

[marigoldbaker]

making a list of good things that happened this year because there's too many and i need them recorded for posterity

visited bonus mom in england and it rewired my entire brain chemistry. i did not blog about it a lot i don't think and i don't talk about it often because it was such a joyful celia is fully present experience, but i will say that when i first arrived at the airport i was so fucking nervous and i was all kinds of shaky and fucked up and terrified that this six year long relationship would fall apart when we tried to translate it to irl and then i saw them there with a sign for me that is now on my wall in my apartment and something in my heart snapped into place and i literally physically flung myself at them and tripped over my suitcase and my knees gave out and i ended up dragging them down to the floor and we hugged for like at least ten minutes (conservative estimate probably). true story

jess is an entire bullet point on this list. funny sweet important passionate talented dedicated hardworking academically iconic definitely needs to take more naps keeps me apprised on extensive sims lore is coming out to visit in february is incisively thoughtful and we've made up beef for our dnd characters together. i love you a lot jess. i would say more things but i bet even these things are going to make you hide under a pillow. so.

so many other friends! like??? insane???? quite a few irl friends which is so cool! particular love for hal and silvain and rj (calendiles dnd crew i love you i'm so glad me putting down jenny has not meant putting down our friendships bc you're all such marvelous people) and gabby and silvain (silvain gets a double mention for Reading Literally All Of My 200K Word Fic reasons. erudite, and immensely appreciated)

and the new bg3 friends i'm beginning to associate with who i don't wanna name by name bc i'm shy and i care overly but PLEASEEE know if we've texted more than once about bg3 i probably adore you greatly and admire your creativity and thoughtful opinions and am trying to play it cool but im bad at it. yes this is about you. i deeply hope we will continue talking. probably about jaheira bc im obsessed with that woman.

being part of like 2 different dnd campaigns this year right around the time i started playing bg3 for the first time was REALLY fucking cool.

ACTUALLY ON THAT SUBJECT THE WHOLE BG3 THING WAS REALLY FUCKING COOL. it feels really special to not like....idk, this year is the first year of my life i have not been labeling myself as That Jenny Calendar Girl! i don't feel like i'm That Jenny Calendar Girl. i am celia :) i like a lot of different things! i like video games, i like bookmaking, i like drawing, i like cooking and food, i like fashion, i like writing, i like little calico critters <3 ironically my url is still the same but i think i am going to keep it that way for a little while, because i like remembering what brought me to this blog in the first place.

fell in love with my neighborhood! it was always bound to happen, but the moving-in process was rough, and it took me a while to connect with the place. now i know what drink i like to order at the local cafes, i know where i want to go for coffee and for pizza, i know about farmers' markets and local events, i know that There Is A Fucking Swimming Pool Across From My House. i do not think i can ever leave.

started to FINALLY feel comfortable in my job! i still don't totally know what i'm doing, but i don't feel like i'm sleepwalking through work while badly dissociating, and i really love the work that i do + the position i fill. i'm so hopeful that i can continue to work with teens. being a teen librarian is oft a difficult position to find

learned how to cook! did not do it often this year but oh well. i was busy.

went to the chicago art institute for the first time ever and got to see a sunday afternoon on the island of la grande jatte by georges seurat which was really insanely meaningful because sunday in the park with george is one of my dad's favorite musicals, and he went and saw that painting a long long time ago, and he also went and saw the monet paintings, and we texted a bunch about it

kept connected with my dad and my brother, and am starting to realize that having my own adult life means i fit a lot easier into theirs.

was briefly and meaningfully reunited with the actual love of my life (the pacific ocean)

VISITED A ROCK BEACH IN ENGLAND. if no one else got me i KNOW rock beach got me. everyone i have talked to is like "no, beaches need to be sandy" but i don't think they understand the sensory experience of sitting among 10000000000 rocks and picking them up and playing with them and finding a piece of rock chalk and drawing faces on the rocks and leaving all the rock faces for someone else to find and hopefully be unnerved by and then having your bonus mom's partner be like "celia are you just abandoning your children there" and reconsidering a lot of life choices but not enough to take the rock faces

i love you lake michigan im sorry i spent 80 percent of this year being mad at you for not being the pacific ocean im done having emotional problems i promise

went and saw wicked 3 different times

went on a couple of really meaningful and sweet dates and even if they didn't go anywhere i think the fact that i'm capable of feeling like that about another person is super awesome to know, and makes me so excited to keep on trying with that

went on a bunch of REALLY wonderful friend-dates and made new friends :) who i have been hanging out with on and off when our schedules allow for the last few months, and who invite me to parties and things!

received some really incredible and personal holiday gifts from a couple of friends, making me subsequently realize that maybe i'm not impossible to give gifts to

drew an entire wall of art for above my bed

bought a four piece microwave safe dish set in colors i love that remind me of marigold. for $10. will absolutely never let anyone forget that or change my blog title (which is a reference to the fact that i went insane that day to the extent that a woman leaving the shop saw me sitting outside with my cardboard box of dishes and went "are you still enjoying your dish set?" and i did not know who she was bc i blacked out and told everyone in the store about how much i loved the dish set. apparently)

i cannot even talk about marigold without getting so unwell and feeling in my chest just this indescribable feeling. i spent like eight years unwaveringly obsessed with a minor character from a 90s tv show who i really was just making into my own original character, but she never could feel fully mine, and the experience of creating my own girl from scratch (baking her, lol) when i was regularly dissociating and vaguely suicidal and having her be the thing that made me figure out how to connect with things and be happy again has been probably one of the best things i have ever experienced. to know unequivocally that the thing that makes me feel strong and centered is something i made for myself out of all the complicated insecurities and worries i feel. she brings me so much joy. i don't think i'm ever going to put her down. that 90s girl was not my baby, and that 90s video game woman, as beloved as she is, may not be around in my heart forever (though i strongly suspect it's going to be another decade, lol) but marigold? that's always. i love her. she's the girl i made for me

[pxrfqct]

Do you enjoy reading? If so what kind of books? I love fantasy/sci fi. Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson are two great authors!

ah fuck, someone finally asked. i'll try to keep my yap short-ish.

i loove reading. my fav genres are mystery/crime/horror, and i've discovered within the past year and a half i really enjoy RPG lit but only by a specific author, Matt Dinniman lol. i was binging the classic James Patterson for a while with his standalones and his Alex Cross series before i came about the rpglit series i'm reading now, Dungeon Crawler Carl. usually dungeon crawl books are pretty much the same with a crawl and an audience, but this series actually gets into rebelling / trying to shake things up and has very interesting plots and characters every level. big yap under cut.

hiigghhly recommend it. the main characters have in-depth backstories that unfold throughout and shit keeps hitting the fan. also there's a talking cat that gains sapience. is that not enough to convince you? (get me on the marketing team) anyways. Matt Dinniman is an amazing writer, every friend i've hooked onto the series regardless of their love for DND has thoroughly enjoyed it.

likewise with James Patterson, as he's also an amazing writer.

i've heard of both of those authors, but i haven't read any of their books. i'm not one for sci-fi or fantasy, besides the series i'm reading, but they look good! i'll have to add them to my list to check out (however long that list may be 😶)

the covers of Brandon Sanderson's books give the old Alex Cross covers vibe for sure. i love it. thank you for some potential reads! always appreciated <3

ugh onto what everyone's probably waiting for: smut. i'm not much of a smut girly tbh in terms of actual books (though let's be honest, the ones i'd like probably wouldn't be allowed on the market) BUT i do have a friend with some recommendations i plan on giving a chance eventually.

yeah yeah i read Haunting Adeline, but it wasn't all that good. sure there were scenes that aren't in your typical smut book, but they were overhyped af by (no offense) bored vanilla housewives. rvpe and cnc? come on .-. and i hate nothing more than the cliche plot of an untouchable, overly intelligent and skilled, super hot guy, stalking a super hot girl that lives in the middle of nowhere. SORRY, just ain't it for me, be unique fr, it's 2024.

i did really enjoy H. D. Carlton's skill in writing though, and that's what kept me there until the end. she went into the mindset of how the victim felt while being violated in different ways, and all of the confusion while falling for her stalker, which is hard to do but pulled it off amazingly. it wasn't a "i need to finish this" book, i was so close to just putting it down, but the talent was nice and i had nothing better to do in my free time. i was waiting for book 7 of Dungeon Crawler Carl, so here we are lol.

i'll list a few recommendations my friend gave me (who's also into some fucked up shit, and i haven't really looked looked into the descriptions, so don't come after me if they're absolutely vile)

Credence by Penelope Douglas

Den of Vipers by K. A. Knight (lowkey super interested)

Verity by Colleen Hoover

^^ if you've read these feel free to put me on or off of them lol

anyways. there's my yap of the day. or first one at least. enjoy!

[txttletale]

I just wanted to let you know that I just found your tumblr within the past week and you have immediately become my 2nd favorite tumblr, being only behind Blogatog. Love your ttrpg takes.

Anywho, you said to ask about flags, so what is your biggest/are your biggest red flags when it comes to ttrpg design?

thank you! i'm glad you enjoy my silly little posts. anyways i think my biggest red flag is unintentionality--the feeling that the writer of a TTRPG has done something by 'default', the inability to put myself in their shoes and understand (or even better, be told by the text itself) the reason why a particular decision has been made.

one of the biggest places this rears its head is in terms of tone and voice. let me quote jay dragon's really good the storyteller technique:

Another advantage of getting to know the narrator of your RPG is that it helps mitigate unconscious bias in your design. Dungeons & Dragons has a notably anthropological narrative voice, explaining other cultures and creatures like a scientist in the field. The language of D&D mimics the writing style of mid-century scientists traveling to “exotic” locations and cataloging non-Western experiences as part of a documentation of the Other. It’s easy for newer designers to want to “write a game like D&D” without regard for how even the narrative voice of Dungeons & Dragons carries unintended political baggage. Is a bird’s-eye and judgemental perspective really the energy you want to bring to your whimsical fantasy world? Or is there another perspective within your world that can be more useful, and allow you to find new perspectives on the world you’ve created.

narrative tone is a choice--the attempt to use a 'neutral' tone for rules text and description is also a choice, how formal and how informal you get with it is a choice, and when i read a text that seems to have made that choice thoughtlessly it imo bodes very poorly for the rest of the game.

other examples of this kind of unintentionality are games that have a comabt system despite not being about combat in any way--games with equipment rules despite them not setting out to tell the sort of story where which sword or gun a character has matters--games that measure themselves in exact distances without actually using a battlemap--&c.

while most of this unintentionality takes the form of 'falling back onto what DND does' because DND is the market leader and many people's first TTRPG, so imitating it without purpose is something that both cynical market-share chasers & unexperienced designers without a wide range of expereicne can do--it's absolutely not unique to it. one form of unintentionality i see a lot in indie TTRPG circles is creating far more Moves for your PBtA game than necessary--clearly more out of a sense that 'AW/MotW/Masks has a Move for this' than any specific understanding of what that move will do in your game

in game design--as in any art--there is no such thing as a 'neutral' choice or a non-choice. there are only choices, and how much someone's thought about these choices is important!

[bonker-bananas]

okay sanders sides board game headcanons go

roman-

has the shortest attention span you have ever seen in your entire life, 90% of the time he has to be bribed to play a game longer than five to ten minutes. uno is the exception.

loves-uno, the idea of risk

hates-most other games, the reality of risk

logan-

into the most long, complicated, rule-and-insane-mechanic-heavy games you could possibly find. also anything trivia or random-knowledge-based. he and virgil make everyone play dnd. he is the dm and only does very elaborate homebrew stuff.

loves-trivial pursuit, everdell, that one stock market game that’s really confusing, matching games likes eye spot it, scrabble, mobius (math bananagrams)

hates-those games where you just roll dice and pass them between the players for five minutes

virgil-

either short games where you brutally destroy your opponents or long games where you brutally destroy your opponents, depending on his mood. also teams up with logan to make everyone play dnd.

loves-unstable unicorns, monopoly, uno

hates-any cooperative/working-together-as-a-team games

patton

big fan of games that let you be on teams or work with other players. loves games where you collect cards with characters on them but is usually bad at the actual game. really is just bad at most games, to be honest. he’s a good sport about it, though. (he likes to make jokes about how “your dad is getting too old for these games” and is immediately shut down by logan because “we’re literally all the same age, patton.”) he doesn’t mind long games but doesn’t do well with extremely complicated games. loves physical building/balance games, weirdly good at trivial pursuit.

loves-pokemon, any cooperative/working-together-as-a-team games, catan (he likes to build little houses with the blocks), bananagrams, jenga, suspend

hates-“now, hate is a strong word, but-” any games where players or characters “die”, uno (apologizes whenever he does literally anything to anyone)

janus-

obviously any game where you have to pretend/lie but also strategy-heavy games that require a lot of planning and thinking. likes slower paced games and takes forever on every single turn he has, no matter what game it is.

loves-mafia, bs, runes and regulations, solitaire (he and logan sometimes sit next to each other and play separate games of solitaire and race to finish theirs first. Janus always cheats.)

hates-wham (he hates the one hand only rule)

remus-

anything wildly inappropriate but also anything structured like apples to apples. give-me-a-prompt-and-i’ll-answer-it-in-a-weird-way games. has a longer attention span than roman but only if he’s interested in the game.

loves-cards against humanity, apples to apples, ransom notes, operation, trophies (he always manages to find words that only technically fit the prompt and you want to disqualify him but you can’t. very annoying.), the telephone game where you have to draw

hates-any game that you just play with a deck of cards (no gimmick and therefore boring)

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Witches

Mediaeval fantasy au

Goth Natasha X fem reader

Warnings: swearing (minor)

A/n: hey this is why my posts have been delayed recently and why I've not been on as much. This is inspired by a DnD thing I saw from a YouTube video by @Zacspeaksgiant. Enjoy some fluff after my last depressing fics :)

The video ^

Natasha wasn't a witch. She wasn't. No matter how many people she told. No matter how much she protested Natasha was always considered the witch in the woods. Only because she fit the normal stereotype. Gothic clothes. Lives in the woods in a cottage cabin type home. Lives off the land. She fits the direct witch stereotype. And she hates it. Natasha won't change. Natasha would never change for anybody. Ever. This is who she wants to be. But the whole witch thing is irritating. What was worse though was the actual witch lived only a few miles away. Not far enough if you asked Natasha.

Wanda was a witch. Only she didn't fit what people consider a witch. She was bright and used fun colours and flowers everywhere. She shopped in the store and ran a flower stall in the town square. Her house was a cosy looking cottage that a grandmother from fairytales would live in. Vines covering walls and a pie usually on the window sill cooling. Flowy dresses and bright clothes. That was Wanda. But she was a witch. And nobody believed her. Everyone would laugh and smile thinking she was joking. It was exhausting. Especially since everyone assumed her neighbour was a witch when she wasn't.

It was yet another day and another person knocking at the door. At this point Natasha was used to being called on for help for some issue or other and she was prepared to turn them back in Wanda's direction. Something she did way too often if you asked Natasha. It was the same conversation. The same "no I'm not the witch she is" and then a finger pointed to Wanda waving excitedly from her doorway. It was a routine at this point. One Natasha despised. Nothing was ever different. The moment Natasha closed the door after turning away yet another wayward soul she leaned against the doorway and sighed. This was almost as irritating as her childhood had been. But Natasha wouldn't change. She wouldn't give in to society like that.

It had been a few days since the last traveler had come by asking for the witch and Natasha couldn't help but be relieved. No knocking. No tired and irritated interactions with idiots who refused to leave her doorstep because Wanda couldn't be the witch she was too bright. People needed to get these colour rules out of their heads. But Natasha couldn't do much about it. She could move further into the woods but then she'd been too far for any medical care she may need. And that wasn't something Natasha wanted to risk. The woods weren't friendly. That's why she lived in them. That's when the familiar knocking was on her door. Natasha closed her eyes tightly and groaned. Straightening her clothes she walked to the door and opened it.

Natasha was caught off guard. This wasn't the normal wayward soul she normally had. This was one of the village girls. Y/n she thinks her name is. She had seen her a couple times when she went to show a traveller to Wanda in the market.

"I'm not the witch. She lived down there."

Natasha speaks coldly pointing to Wanda's house. Not even looking. She knows Wanda will be there waving. She knew that y/n must know that Wanda was the witch. But surprisingly y/n didn't move. Her face was a bit red too. Weird.

"no I know.. she sent me here.."

Y/n was soft spoken. Always had been. But even with her soft tone this nearly made Natasha stumble. Natasha glanced over to where Wanda was. She was standing out her doorway with her thumbs up and a big grin on her face. It wasn't hard to connect the dots. Red faced y/n at her doorstep and a grinning Wanda. Natasha hesitated. She had only ever really spoken to Wanda in small passings. The only real conversation they had was when Natasha admitted to being slightly lonely. And now Wanda was setting her up. Not what she had expected.

Natasha turned back to y/n. She was cute. Pretty y/h/C and pretty eyes too. Definitely Natasha's type. And the red face said everything to Natasha about y/n's feelings. So she stepped aside to let y/n in.

"come in."

Natasha said gentler this time. Now feeling guilty for how she had acted before. Y/n stepped into the threshold. Glancing around with slight curiosity. Not that Natasha blamed her. She collected some... Interesting things. Skulls and bones. Snake skins and plants that looked unnatural. But instead of looking disgusted y/n just looked fascinated.

"do you want some tea or coffee?"

Natasha asked hesitating slightly. How was she meant to act in this situation. Y/n glanced back at Natasha and smiled. Natasha nearly stumbled again. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen y/n smiling before. But it was never at her. Natasha didn't believe in love at first sight or true love. That was a romantics thing. And Natasha prided herself on not being the romantic type. But Natasha may need to change her views because if she could she would burn the image of y/n's smile into her mind so it was the only thing she would ever see again.

"tea actually. Black."

Natasha nearly missed y/n's response. But pulling herself together slightly she nodded and walked to the small kitchenette.

Why was she acting this way. Natasha never noticed y/n before. Well she had. But never romantically. Natasha never even second glanced at the woman. But now. Knowing her feelings and looking at her properly Natasha was struggling to focus on anything but her. She needed to get a grip or else she could fuck it up. Natasha made the tea quickly and walked it out to y/n. Sitting it on the coffee table. Y/n sat down and took a sip. Natasha frozen for a moment just staring. Was y/n always this pretty? When did she suddenly look so radiant. Granted this was Natasha's first actual look at y/n but she had seen her before... Briefly. But still. Natasha never did pay much attention to anyone... Natasha shook out of it and sat next to y/n.

The night went quickly. Most of it talking. About each other. What they wanted in partners and life. Personal details. Basically a small get together to see if the two fit or liked each other aside from looks. And to Natasha's surprise y/n was... Just as pretty on the inside as she was out. Natasha didn't even think y/n could harm a fly. And surprisingly y/n agreed to come back. She was gonna come again tomorrow. Natasha was still processing how pretty she looked. Natasha had officially decided on one thing. Y/n's laugh was the prettiest sound in the world and if she could bottle it up and keep it forever she would. Just so she could listen to it forever.

The next day came and went. Just as good as day one. Natasha set up a picnic near the creek. It went well. Really well. They met up again. And again. And again. Natasha didn't really know a day anymore that y/n wasn't in. She was everywhere. In everything. The wood she cut for the fire. In the water running by her home. In the flowers that sprouted along the edge of her home. Natasha couldn't find a place in the world y/n wasn't. And it was wonderful. A state of bliss.

Natasha officially asked y/n to be her girlfriend a year after they met. Granted Natasha wanted to do it sooner. But she was so nervous that it was too soon. It wasn't. Y/n found it perfect. They kissed that night. Under the moonlight. Cliche but to Natasha it was perfect.

Natasha wasn't a witch. She wasn't. But she didn't have to tell anyone that anymore. Y/n always protested for her now. Natasha was no longer considered the witch in the woods. She still fit the stereotype. Gothic clothes. Lives in the woods in a cottage cabin type thing. Lives off the land. She fits directly with the witch stereotype. But she doesn't hate it. Natasha changed. She changed for y/n. She was still who she wanted to be. But now y/n dispels rumours of Natasha being the witch. And now everyone went to the real witch who lived a few miles away. Well barely. She was over so often as a friend it was hard to tell.