#wizards of the coast you cowards

[enbyartist]

I will forever and always be pissed at WOTC for just…only allowing D&D 5e to exist on the Sword Coast.

Toril?? Faerûn?? Nope. Only Sword Coast. Only Waterdeep, Baldur’s Gate, Neverwinter, and Icewind Dale.

[varivahl]

They really made one of the most straightforward easy to play engaging tcgs with wild and amazing art and let it just die... twice... fuck wizards of the coast normal style but also fuck them extra style give me the duel masters license ill make it work you cowards

Look at some of this radical art

[bizarrobrain]

Wizards of the Coast: *tries to invalidate the Open Game License (OGL), which is what lets people make content for Dungeons & Dragons without consulting with WotC and replacing it with a version that not only forces that but gives them ownership and royalties on whatever you homebrew*

Players: There’s a lot of monster fucking worked out in my notes. WotC execs might be too afraid to fuck a Beholder but I am no such coward.

[abominationvault]

Session 56: Sat 2 Nov 2024

Well it’s been a few weeks, what did we do last time? *re-reads notes* A battle with a seugathi and a destrachan? I’m pretty sure we won… Sprocket has opened another Teleportation circle, Skabb found a Wand of Status, and for my own information, Nadia has made some bombs. Greater Redpitch ones, too! We went to have a kip at Hotel Mitflit, and can have all our HP back.

Discussion about Skabb’s home-made stew and who might chance trying it. The phrase “slice of urine” is spoken; fortunately I miss the context. Hartvig is feeling better, so our cleric (“I’M NOT A FUCKING CLERIC”) is good to go. Let’s Dungeon some Dra- I mean, Find some Paths!

Jorg’ath is nominated to do the recap: There was a guy who was a worm, and he had a notebook, and we were heroes! And the lizard suplexed something into a hole, I miss the rest. He gets a Hero Point for the recap. Skabb drew an arrow on the map pointing us toward the door we chose last week, so we charge on through.

Jorg’ath takes the lead. This corridor looks like it’s seen a lot of use; there is sand in here from the floor of the arena. He gets down and wiggles on his belly to remove any lice. (There weren’t any; Skabb already checked him for snackables.)

Skabb thinks Nadia should shoot Jorg’ath, but only with a tangle-bag. (Again, I missed the context.) Jorg’ath: “You leave my dangle-bag out of this.” He wins a Hero Point.

Skabb makes a Perception check: dirty 20. There is no pattern in the sand, but it looks as though it’s been trailed around the corner to the west. She wants to make a Nature check to see if she knows what kind of beasties might live here: Green 32! She isn’t sure. There are too many tracks; some look bipedal, and others look left by things with no legs at all, and some like widely-spaced circular holes. Something many-legged. Giant spider, or Drider maybe. (Hartvig: “So not only are we fighting giant spiders, but also Wizards of the Coasts’ IP lawyers?”) Jafaki, perhaps...?

Jorg’ath knocks on the door to the south. No response. He wants to kick the door in: Athletics check 33. “I am so athletic!” There are two big things in there…

He sees something that might be Jafaki. Books, glass bottles, on shelves. Dissected remains of creatures, a severed morlock head, still alive and screaming. Luna and Skabb use their readied attacks. Luna does damage, Skabb’s sling-bullet bounces off the not-a-drider.

It shoots a fireball at us. Luna: “Stop drop and roll!” We make Reflex saves; Luna and Nadia take half damage, Skabb, Sprocket and Hartvig fail hard enough to take double-damage. Sprocket is vulnerable to fire damage, so he takes four extra for a total of 52, ouchies.

Then something else gets a go on us. Because Jorg’ath is extra-medium, is he big enough to block the attack - no, no he’s not. Grabby makes a belated save against the fireball, and ends up with 'one tasty hit point' left. What about her goblin-dog? He’s a coward so he’s at the back and can’t be killed unless Skabb is.

Jorg’ath makes a Will save, DC 28 - he rolls a 27. “Ah, what?!” He Hero Points for worse and is Confused. That was an attack from Jafaki, it turns out…

Initiative!

Sprocket goes first. He casts Haste on Jorg’ath, and has Augustus cast Shield.

Hartvig next. He looks at his friends that he likes, and tries to see which one looks the grossest; who has the worst injuries? It’s Skabb, so he does a big Heal on her. Resentfully. 24, plus 14 HP back for her! He uses his last action to stride confidently around the corner so if there’s another fireball he won’t get roasted. “You’re doing a great job, well done,” he calls to us as he disappears from view.

Confused Jorg’ath rolls a d6 - odds he goes to us to attack, evens to the baddies: 2! He does a big gozz on the Dride- er, spider elf thing. It saves and takes half damage. He has an action left. “Let’s smack it real hard.” 20 to hit and it’s flat-footed! He makes another Will save - 17, no. Still Confused.

It’s Jafaki’s turn I think. He casts Phantasmal Killer on Nadia - she crit fails her save and must make a roll to see if she dies right there on the spot. Wait! Hero Point! Still a fail but not a crit, so ONLY 8d6 mental damage and she is Frightened 2. Inspired by our wafty little not-cleric, Jafaki disappears around a corner. Real nice.

Luna is up next. She does her traditional hide-and-shoot combo for a hit with a 32 against the not-drider, which is flat-footed so she gets her Sneak Attack damage as well. She makes an Occultism check on the thing but only gets a 5. We have seen one before though, so she knows what it is. And that it’s big and ugly and she doesn’t like it. 24 hits again, and then she ducks bravely around a corner.

Skabb casts Sudden Bolt on the Drider - it makes a Reflex save, green 35. She uses her last action to give Grabby two, and Grabby skedaddles up next to Hartvig to bosh a potion.

The not-drider goes next. We try to convince it to play cats cradle with itself, or throw healing potions at us, but the DM is not convinced. How about a full 3-action apology? It throws an acid arrow at Augustus instead, and hits him for 24 damage, and 5 persistent. Sprocket: “Well it’s going to be a short game for me.” Then it attacks Jorg’ath, who is conveniently standing right there. Green 33 for 18 slashing. “I'd like to throw this out there: that’s really rude.” It’s a crit, so Jorgy takes 53 damage - on the plus side he can roll a flat check to recover from the Confusion. 12! Success!

Nadia, Frightened 2 and hands shaking, raises Alkonost and uses one of her Greater Redpitch bombs on the not-drider. 31 hits for 3 fire damage, 3 piercing damage, and 11 persistent fire damage! She shoots with Bluebird, misses, and that’s her turn. She reduces her Frightened condition by 1.

Sprocket Summons the Moss Sloth! We all start chanting. Using his magical sloth abilities, Randy can walk on walls and ceilings as if they were difficult terrain, smelling rancid as he does so. He climbs up to the drider and really slowly reaches out and does a wooden claw attack. It misses; Randy falls asleep. Augustus has nothing in his inventory that will help, so he goes around a corner and looks a little worse for wear as a free action.

The DM shows us Jafaki:

Hartvig is up: he pops out from his side corridor and gives Jorgy a Heal. 44HP back! And with that Jorg’ath is up, and no longer Confused. He eyes the drider up - how is he looking? Perception check 24. It looks badly injured. Jorgy would like to add to it please. A few slashes with the greatsword and howdydoodis! He sticks the sword into the drider’s belly and stirs until its insides fall out like porridge. He strolls over to quote “twat Jafaki around a bit”, but misses.

Jafaki attacks him with a rapier, critting with a 39 for 14 plus 24 damage. The rapier is venomed, it turns out, because Jorg'ath knocked on the door before booting it open, alerting Jafaki to our presence. (Hartvig: “… I just MADE those hit points!”) Fortitude save for Jorgy: 28. “Ha! Take your venom and stick it up your…” Well, that was attack #1. Jafaki bites him but misses. Jorg’ath is quite hard to get purchase on, it turns out. Rapier attack, and that misses as well.

Luna is next, but is AFK (snoozing) so Sprocket wakes her up. She sets about Jafaki with her own rapier and hits, then stops and has a think. Occultism 10. "Oh well. Stab!" She misses. (Jafaki counts as flanked going forward, as he’s cornered.)

Skabbins. Can she see Jafaki? Yes. She shouts at Jorg’ath to watch out, not that he can move. She casts Lightning Bolt anyway, even though he’s in the firing line. The DM rules that it will miss him since he’s not directly in line, and then Jafaki crit-saves against the spell anyway and takes no damage. Skabb is annoyed.

Nadia comes in to the room, and spots the bombs on Jafaki's belt in glass vials. Would it be a feat to make a called shot on one of those...? Yes, it would sadly, and she doesn't have it. So with nothing else she can do, shoots at Jafaki and misses. But! She’s now no longer frightened!

Randy crawls slowly across the wall - and makes a ranged strike at Jafaki with some fruit he has… expelled. He crits! 7 bludgeoning plus 6 crit damage. It was a nectarine, slightly rotten. The stone goes into one of Jafaki’s eyes. Jafaki is suitably disgusted. Randy does it again, and crits again! 5 bludgeoning and 12 critical damage. He smiles. It turns out Jafaki is resistant to bludgeoning damage, so the DM has to give him back 10 hit points. Sprocket, growling: “I will not soon forget this.” (Augustus has de-manifested, I think, but I’m not sure why.)

Hartvig. “… Hartvig indeed. You may well say. Because you are correct.” He waffles for a bit longer, and then stops for a think. "The dolly is nearly dead, right?" Yes. He charges in and Heals Jorg’ath for 28HP, presumably while receiving a Look from Sprocket.

Jorg’ath would like to do Intimidating Strike, in hopes of not only wounding Jafaki but also shattering his confidence. 28 hits for 17 slashing damage and 4 something else, but he is immune to mental effects and is therefore not Frightened. Jorgy goes for a cuddle - 21 Athletics which Jafaki beats by 1 and wafts over away from him.

Jafaki throws a bottled lightning at Jorg’ath - 24 misses! Which means he still takes the splash damage, as does everyone within 20 feet. Since that was a miss, he goes for the Cloracle (Cloracle! We all love that, that’s staying) and crits. Hartvig is down… but he gets a posthumous Hero Point for healing everyone else but himself. “Yay! I want to be buried with it!”

Luna next. There’s nowhere for her to hide in here. “I’m just gonna shoot it.” She misses all her attacks…

Skabbins is next. Blazing Dive! Jorg'ath is most proud. Jafaki crit-saves against her attack, for his third crit-save against her. It's starting to feel personal now. He does take the 6 additional damage from the attack, however. She bites with her Grill of Abomination Bane and hits - and Jafaki, it turns out, is an Abomination! Can she take a worm-type creature out of her pocket and eat it slowly in front of him? she can, and she does.

Nadia shoots a redpitch bomb at Jafaki and hits for 8 piercing, 2 fire, and 6 persistent fire, and then hits with bluebird as well. She gets a Hero Point for not running away! (This game obviously doesn't have Poor-Decision Points.)

Randy the Moss Sloth crawls along the ceiling above Nads’ head, showering her with what she hopes is only dandruff, and bolts another rotten nectarine at Jafaki but it misses. Sprocket then summons a Soul-Bound Doll to Heal Hartvig with, giving him back (I think) 11 hit points.

Hartvig would have made a death save, but now he doesn’t have to! He is back - but wounded. (Sprocket: “SozRoflLol.”) Hartvig could heal himself, or he could throw all the needles at Jafaki? (Jorg’ath: “Spoil yourself!”) He decides on Spiritual Armament instead, swinging it at Jafaki with a 24, which misses. He still has an action, so if he Sustains the spell, he can attack with it again. 9 is also a miss.

Right Jorg’ath, what you got? (He puts his hand on Hartvig’s shoulder. “You’ll do some damage one day.” Hartvig gives a big shaky sigh.) Jorgy hits Jafaki for a bunch of damage, then a miss. “At least I didn’t drop it.”

Jafaki takes 6 persistent fire damage at the top of his turn, then attacks Jorg’ath with a 29 rapier attack, and forces a Fortitude save - Jorg’y crits. He’s going to stab him again. “I wish he wouldn’t.” 28 hits for 15 damage and another save - Jorgy fails, and is envenomed and Stupefied 1. Jafaki wants to have a third attack - 19 misses, luckily.

Luna is AFK, so Sprocket has her jaunt over to flank Jafaki and stab him with her rapier. 27 hits for 7 piercing, then 17 misses. Wait - Howdy doody? Howdy doody!!! She plunges her rapier into the smuggest bit of Jafaki, up to the hilt, and stirs. The bits of jelly fall out into Skabb’s mouth.

Combat over, Nadia goes for Jafaki's unused bombs and gets a bottled lightning and an acid flask, while Skabb rummages for potion ingredients. Randy disappears; chorus of “Bye Randy”.

Skabb finds a +1 rapier, which she gives to Luna, a Wand of Gentle Repose, a wand of second level magic missi- er, whatever the non-Wizards one is called. Force Barrage, that’s it. He also had a set of keys and some Expanded Alchemist’s Tools.

The Drider had a +1 Composite longbow, 20 arrows, and a glaive; we snaffle all the useful stuff.

Jorg’ath approaches the screaming morlock head and tries to smother it, but it’s being kept alive by the machinery. Hartvig makes an Occultism check - 23. He manages to disconnect the morlock. The head dies, and the machinery is broken. He spits in it for good measure. He looks at the notes next to the head - it was destined to become a flesh golem and would have hunted us throughout the whole dungeon if he hadn’t put a stop to it.

We find all the pieces for an Expanded Alchemists lab, some expanded healers tools and a superb toolkit? I think? 2 vials of anti plague, a crafter’s eyepiece, and something else. (Nadia discovers she already has an expanded alchemists tool kit in her backpack, and asks the newly-resummoned Augustus if he minds carrying the new ones. He sighs.)

Jorg’ath hacks Jafaki’s head off so we can take it back to Sprocket’s new Mummy-Daddy, AKA. Chuffcum. (Mummy, because... undead, bandages, you get it.) We toddle off, avoiding the other door for now as we think that might be where we left the enormous monster that time we didn’t have Sprocket and Luna with us.

We do some healing before we go, as Skabb doesn’t trust Chuffcum and wants to go prepared for a fight if need be. She heals Jorg’ath, Hartvig, and Sprocket, and Jorg’ath heals Nadia. Hartvig heals Nadia and Jorg’ath again, and Skabb slaps some mud on Luna before she realises what’s happening. To Chuffcum!

The DM zips us to Chuffcum’s cupboard. We find him packing up his papers; he is off to Assyrium. (sp?) Were we successful, Chuffcum asks? Jorg’ath drops Jafaki’s head on his paperwork; he is delighted. He draws us a map of the level we’re on, including all secret doors, and how to disable a trap we’ve already disabled with our squishy bodies. The DM tries to disable the fog of war on Roll20, and ends up obscuring all of the map except the room we’re in. “Hmmm.” He tries again, and WE SEE ALL. Including monsters! The piece of paper he’s written it on also includes the spell Freedom of Movement for anyone capable of learning it. Skabb is initially put off by all the words, and then remembers she can just feed the parchment to Grabby Cat.

Chuffcum looks at Sprocket, and sets about teaching him the spell Create Undead. OoooOOoooOO! We can feed Augie with this, by animating already-dead creatures, thereby making them into something he can eat.

Mummy-Daddy wishes us the best and leaves to spend his days performing various acts of evil. Sprocket says he will come and visit. (Skabb seems befuddled; she is having an internal conversation with herself about trusting people.)

Jorg’ath wants to kill the big thing first because it’s SO FAR to walk to the little monsters. He is overruled and asks to be zipped back to the pub so it’s not as far to walk. Nadia immediately goes to the bar for wine, and we call it there.

[jayahult]

The recent talk about D&D in my circle has got me thinking about sorcerers. In the rulebooks, as written, they're magic users who rather than getting their power from some higher entity (like a cleric or warlock) or getting their power from intensely studying the secret workings of the universe (like a wizard), they were either born into their abilities or have them by some freak accident of circumstance, usually manifesting from sometime in their adolescence.

And I feel like that is sort of a horrifying element if you take it to any logical extreme. Like, if you know that magic is a hereditary trait, why not attempt to breed for it? People aren't stupid in the D&D world and obviously genetics and breeding exist because cows, pigs and domesticated grains exist. It's not even that hard to justify morally - after all, with an army or even an entire society of sorcerers, even relatively low-level, poor-quality ones would be one that could be cleaner, safer, more capable of defending itself against outside threats, quicker to build and so on and so forth - but at what cost? Not to get all philosophical, but to loosely quote Darwin on the matter of eugenics, such an endeavor would endanger the human instinct of sympathy. Or, if you're so inclined, you could pretty easily imagine a magical version of the Habsburgs or the Ptolemaic dynasty. Obviously hideously incestuous and corrupt, but also very, very magical and as a result very hard to depose. Of course, Wizards of the Coast is a company run by cowards, so we'll probably never see that. It just feels like something obvious that would come up.

[yourplayersaidwhat]

For context: Our Bugbear monk (Jazz) just joined the group and was getting newly acquainted with the party while we went through our first dungeon. At the final room our rogue (Jed) and monk snuck into the room to see if the coast was clear but were discovered anyway by a Mindflayer wizard. Our rogue attempted to run back down the stairs but was magically ensnared and dragged back up.

Mindflayer: Now now, I don’t take kindly to cowards, Johnson.

Frank (Cleric): Your last name is Johnson?

Susie (Druid): You have a last name?!

Jazz: YOU HAVE A NAME?!

[lvmosity]

saviour | harry potter

pairing: harry potter x muggleborn!hufflepuff!reader

requested: yes! by @scoofpoof​ thank u ♡

request: can i request for a harry potter x muggleborn! hufflepuff! reader? reader doesnt know harry potter (gasp) but he does bc they grew up in the same place and he lowkey has a crush on her. reader still doesnt know harry potter in school n is one of the top students. harry knows that she is physically strong bc she plays muggle sports n knows self defense. shes kind but not a coward so one time harry asks for help when he is being bullied n she agrees... reluctantly. u can choose the ending. thanks!

genre: fluff maybe?

word count: 3.4k (ok i didnt expect this to be long)

warnings: bullying, mentions of blood & scars, reader is a badass

tags: @sadhwstudent​ 

credit to the owner of the gif

It had only been less than two months since the news of Lord Voldemort’s supposed return from the dead had spread throughout the Wizarding World and all Harry Potter could do was watch in frustration as people branded him as a liar and deranged. He had to thank the Ministry of Magic, primarily Minister Fudge who took full control of this and covered up what he thinks to be complete utter nonsense. It wasn’t a surprise to him really as the Ministry of Magic were, after all, corrupt and incompetent.

Whilst Harry lied in bed feeling extremely alone and lost during those months, he did not get a single letter from his two best friends; Ron and Hermione, despite their promises. He was starting to wonder if they too had turned blind and decided their friendship wasn’t worth it but after finally meeting up one day for an explanation, he realised it was done so under Dumbledore’s orders which made the situation worse.

Then the events that followed after made it harder to cope with. He had discovered an old alliance formed by Dumbledore during the First Wizarding World and that half of them had either died or were seriously harmed. His godfather Sirius Black had informed him that the Dark Lord was in search of a special object that he had no access to during his previous attack, along with the mysterious actions of his headteacher who has ignored him throughout the summer. The pressure was starting to be a heavy toll on him, and he was forced to deal with it.

Unfortunately, it also became a difficulty attending school. His classmates had started eyeing him weirdly, growing awfully distant with him to which they would immediately stop talking once Harry entered the room, and some of his other so-called-friends had removed him from their lives. It also couldn’t help that certain students, none other than Draco Malfoy and his goons, had begun to bully him more than ever, hitting him with nastier remarks as well as the constant push and shove tactics.

Harry felt isolated and disorientated, felt as if no one had truly believed the words that came out of his mouth, felt as if he was made a laughing stock to the Wizarding World, felt as if Voldemort had already won the battle and it had barely even started. Ron and Hermione tried their best to cheer him up and distract him from reality but it would end in failure each time.

He was starting to lose hope, starting to think he was better off buried twenty-feet deep under the dirt since he knew his parents were the only ones who wouldn’t judge him, starting to accept the many labels plastered on him; he was a liar. 

He just had spent a strenuous hour-long detention session with Professor Umbridge in the afternoon due to his apparent cheek talking as well as spitting ‘false’ information about the Dark Lord’s return. Feeling emotionally drained, Harry found himself making a bee-line to the school’s library to have a moment to himself, he wasn’t prepared to face his friends and hear their worries.

Night had already fallen meaning everyone would be asleep by now, the hallways had also gotten dark. Luckily enough, the candles were the only light source as it made it slightly easier for Harry to find his way through the darkness. However, he wasn’t able to see anything further down the hall and he worried that a prefect or a professor on duty might catch him and drag him back to the dorms. Although, he’d rather bump into them than Filch.

And soon enough, once he had turned a corner and heard hurried footsteps approaching up ahead in the darkness, he started to panic. It was only a matter of time before he suddenly collided into something hard and he desperately hoped it wasn’t any of the two. Waiting to hear a grumpy voice scold him, he hears a high-pitched squeal instead.

The unknown figure in front quickly whispers a ‘lumos’ before being blinded by a bright light. Harry hisses at the sudden flash and squints his eyes to see past it expecting to see Filch or a professor. To his surprise, he realised it was just a girl but it wasn’t just any ordinary girl, it was you.

You look at Harry with a bewildered look to which he returns. Opening your mouth to question his presence, your head quickly whips back and a small gasp escapes from your lips. Both of you hear another set of footsteps approaching from behind and you instantly grab Harry’s hand and rush off to find a room or a spot to hide in.

After locating a random closet room, you hastily pull Harry inside with you and shut the door from behind. Harry leans against the wall and starts to pant but you hush at him indicating to keep quiet. You whisper a ‘Filch’ to him and he nods in realisation but mentally facepalms seconds later because you couldn’t see it anyways since the room was completely dark.

Several minutes pass by and no sign of footsteps or a grouchy voice could be heard meaning the coast was clear. Relieved, you flick your wand and a light illuminates from the tip of it, now the room was bright enough to see.

You turn to Harry and smile at him sheepishly, feeling embarrassed for grabbing a stranger’s hand. “Sorry about dragging you here, I had to make sure the both of us didn’t get caught, you know how Filch is.”

Harry shakes his head rapidly, “It’s fine, I appreciate you looking out for me though.”

“No worries...” Your words falter at the end waiting for him to introduce himself as you had no knowledge of the boy standing in front of you.

“Harry, Harry Potter.”

“Ah, well,” The sides of your eyes crinkled as you give him a friendly smile. “You’re welcome Harry, Harry Potter.”

You burst into fits of giggles, finding your small joke amusing. A faint blush creeps onto his face and Harry’s head shifts to the side in an attempt to hide it as he found you it adorable. Fortunately for him, you didn’t notice it but you noticed something instead and it wasn’t fortunate for him.

“Harry! Your hand’s bleeding!” You gasp as you reach out to his hand, lifting it up to your face to inspect it.

Harry winces at the sight of the blood, his scab had cut open supposedly from the harsh grip you had on him whilst you were running away before. It was only a minor cut and it didn’t really bother Harry whilst you reacted differently by shrieking as if he had lost a hand.

“What happened to your hand? Why do you have a scab?” You eye it closely, “It looks recent too.”

Harry scratches the back of his head with his other hand and stays silent, unsure on how to explain it to you that Professor Umbridge is a vile, old bat that enchanted a special quill to cut into his skin when he uses it. He also didn’t want you to worry too much and snitch on her to Dumbledore in case you would get in trouble.

Slightly frowning at his choice to ignore your question, you gently push him back to sit on a random obstacle as you rustle inside your school robes only to pull out a tiny first-aid box and kneel in front of Harry. You pick up a wound spray out of it and spritz it on his cut causing Harry to hiss at the slight pain.

Mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’ to him, you continue to dab the blood away, taking extra care not to deepen it. Once you saw that the cut was cleaned up, you pick up a plaster and place it on his cut, softly smoothing it out so that it sticks on properly.

Harry watches you intently as you smile to yourself feeling proud at your work, even if it simply was just tending to your aid. Harry lifts his hands up and stares at the plaster, it was girly for his liking as it was coloured a pastel purple and had a daisy pattern. He found it cute.

"It’s my friends,” Harry looks back at you. “Mine recently ran out so my friend lent me a few since I’m always getting into fights.” You bite your lip and look at Harry, waiting for a shocked reaction from him, he probably doesn’t expect you to be a troublesome girl.

“B-but for a good reason! I only fight the bad guys, y’know the bullies and all.” You stutter, trying to defend yourself. You began to bring up past events of you arguing with a Slytherin called Pansy and how it ended badly, showing him old bruises on your arm that were close to fading away. You then bring up another fight including a boy from your house and rambled on about how he blamed you for messing up a potion to which you secretly made it blow up in his face out of annoyance.

As you continue to rant, you didn’t notice Harry’s gaze on you. He knew all about you and how you are as a person, he knew this because he’s observed you for years. Harry figured that you didn’t know him too well as you saw him as a stranger but to him, you weren’t.

The two of you grew up in the same neighbourhood, practically living across from each other but a few houses down. Both of you also attended the same school and shared most classes together, yet throughout the years you didn’t seem to acknowledge his presence until now. 

This wasn’t a surprise to Harry as he was a quiet child and didn’t get on with the others in his year. He stayed reserved, spending most of his time in school sitting inside class with his teacher during break and lunchtime watching other children have fun. The teacher wouldn’t pay much attention to Harry but it didn’t bother him as he was much interested in watching you play on the field outside.

He was captivated by you. You were different from most girls in his year; you loved playing muggle sports as you would constantly single-handedly beat the boys at football. Gradually, he developed a crush on you. He would consistently hear stories from his classmates of how you would beat up bullies and stand up to anyone making fun of your friends, or rather anyone. You were strong for your age, in fact, you were always strong. 

Growing up, the stories would get crazier and Harry got a chance to witness it come alive. During one chilly December night, he stumbled upon the scene of you being harassed by two men. Irritated by their actions, Harry was about to call them out but in a blink of an eye; you quickly grab one of their arms and twist it, launching him over your shoulder and slammed him down on the ground. 

The other man shrieked in horror and ran away, bumping into Harry’s shoulder in the process. Satisfied, you calmly walk away from the groaning man and left a speechless Harry. From that moment onwards, his admiration for you tripled.

Not only were you strong, but you were also freakishly intelligent. Scoring ‘Outstanding’ grades in most of your classes to which you were one of the top students in Hogwarts, always positioning a place higher than Hermione (she hated that). 

Harry was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts as he sees you with your head tilted to the side, staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, I asked if you were alright. Something wrong?”

“Oh, er, n-no. I was just thinking about something.”

“Ah,” You place your chin in both the palm of your hands, looking up at Harry. “Say, you haven’t told me how you got that scab. What happened?”

Harry sighed. “Umbridge.”

You roll your eyes, “Of course, I’m not surprised.” You stand up and sit beside Harry who scooches a bit to the side to make space. Although, due to how small the obstacle you guys were sat on, your hands were lightly brushing up against each other and Harry tried his best to keep calm and fight the uncontrollable blush.

“I don’t know why I’ve only just realised this but you were the guy that was with Cedric the night he died, right?” Harry turns his head to you, startled at the sudden change of topic. “And you’re the one who keeps saying that the Dark Lord has returned.”

No answer. Harry stays silent, he had a feeling that you were also going to make fun of him, call him a liar and walk off; forever ignoring his existence. But instead, he hears a soft giggle.

“Don’t worry, I believe you.”

Harry shoots you a confused look, “What, really?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just... mostly everyone doesn’t, and they bully me for it.”

You frown at the new information before your face relaxes. “I’m so sorry that’s been happening to you Harry...” Harry shrugs and you couldn’t help but start to feel bad. “I wish it was different. If there was a way for me to help, I would--”

Harry’s head perks up; “Then help me.”

“What? Harry, I barely know you.”

“But I know you.”

“You don’t even know my name--”

“Y/N, your name is Y/N Y/LN.”

“Okay, now that’s weird.”

Harry shakes his head, “It’s a long story but we grew up in the same neighbourhood and attended the same primary school.”

“Oh,” That made sense. You were beginning to think you had a stalker. “How come I’ve only just met you today?” 

“Must be a magic spell I put on myself to be invisible.”

You playfully nudge him. “Oh shut up, a kid that young wouldn’t have been able to learn the spell for it yet.”

You both laugh and for a moment, Harry’s troubles had disappeared and he was enjoying the company, your company. As the laughter fades away, Harry turns back to staring at you and you question him, “What?”

“So, will you help me? With the bullying?” 

You bite your lip and ponder for a few minutes. An hour ago, he was just a stranger to you (and whoa, has it already been an hour?) yet it felt like you guys had already met before, like fate had brought him to you and perhaps offered you both to initiate a friendship or more. Wait, what were you thinking? You’ve only just met the guy!

Your eyes meet up with his once more and he gazes at you softly, waiting for an answer. You couldn’t help but feel even more bad for Harry. What were you going to say?

“Okay.”

●●●

The next morning had arrived and like always, Harry had to deal with the usual weird looks and whispers from the students that passed by him in the halls. Ron and Hermione would instantly glare at them to which they’d shut up and walk off but they knew they’d start whispering again once they turned their backs away.

Frustrated at her best friend’s ignorance, Hermione pulls Harry’s arm back causing the three of them to stop in their tracks. “Harry, aren’t you going to say or do something about this? You can’t just ignore them!”

Harry whips his arm out of her grasp causing Hermione to frown. “It’s nothing to worry about, I’ll be alright.”

“Alright?! How could you possibly feel alright when everyone is going around making a mockery of you--”

“Well, well, if it isn’t Potter.” The three of them turn to see Draco and his two other delinquent friends walk up to them, a smug look plastered across Draco’s face. “Finding it difficult these days, aren’t we?”

Ron scoffs, “Screw off Malfoy.” He nudges Harry and a mumbles a ‘let’s just go Harry.’ as him and Hermione start to walk away but Harry stays put.

“You know, I’m surprised you haven’t had enough and dropped dead just like poor Ceddy. You can both die as cowards.”

Harry steps closer, glowering at Draco. “Don’t you dare talk about Cedric like that.” 

Draco also steps closer, their foreheads almost touching each other as anger boils up within them. “Or what?” He shoves Harry back by the shoulders causing him to lose a bit of his balance but luckily enough Ron and Hermione were a few meters away to catch him in time.

Standing back up, he was about to lunge at Draco with his fists clenched up ready to land a punch but before he could, he was interrupted by shouting. 

“Hey Draco!”

Everyone turns around and sees you up behind Draco whose head wasn’t turned around in time. He didn’t get the chance to acknowledge who the person calling his name was as you punched him square in the face making him stumble back in pain and tripped on his feet, landing hard on his back. 

The rest stood there in horror and utter shock, their mouths slightly opened as their minds were trying to register what had just happened. Harry couldn’t believe it, you stood up for him. Were you watching the situation unfold?

Draco groans and looks up at you, pinching the sides of his nose bridge in an attempt to control his now bleeding nose. “What the fuck--”

“For your information blondie, Harry and Cedric aren’t cowards.” You slowly lean over Draco, peering down at him with narrowed eyes as you smirk. “And neither am I.” You wink and reached into your robes before throwing tissues at him, Draco watches them fall to the ground and your figure walks away, a pleased look on your face.

You make your way to the trio whose eyes were focused on you. You stand in front of Harry and hand him a potion. Harry, still speechless, stares at the unknown potion in his hands.

“It’s Murtlap Essence,” You lightly tap the sides of his hands that had his scab from last night. “Soak your hand with that, it’ll heal it.”

A warm smile appears on his face, the sides of his eyes crinkled making it more genuine. He was so thankful, he couldn’t seem to think of words to express his gratitude. For years, he was yearning for you to acknowledge his presence and the time finally came, better than what he expected it to turn out to be.

But his smile was enough for your heart to flutter and you started to notice his presence was stronger than ever before, you didn’t know why you hadn’t known him before but at least from now on; the image of his smile would burrow itself in your mind. This would be enough to want to know him more.

The two of you stare at each other for what seems like forever and the other two clear their throats, feeling awkward and unsure what to do or say. You and Harry switch back to reality and the realisation of staring at each other for a while makes you both flustered.

“Thank you Y/N, for everything. You didn’t need to punch Draco though,” Harry laughs and so did the rest of you.

You shake your head, “Nah, that pompous brat deserved it. I made sure to punch him hard so his father would hear about it.” You joked, giggling afterwards.

You faintly smile and point past the trio, indicating that you were going to take your leave. “I’ll see you soon Harry, yeah?” 

He nods and you stroll past him, but not even several meters away until Harry calls out for you: “Hogsmeade. This Saturday, would you come with--”

“Yes.”

You hastily answer back without stopping or glancing back but the both of you knew each one had supported an excited smile, both now looking forward to the date that was soon coming up.

As Harry watches your figure get smaller further down the hallways, he felt his admiration for you become extremely stronger. He saw you as his saviour, back then when he was young and vulnerable but managed to make his childhood happy despite the problems occurring in his household. He saw you as his saviour right now, where he is older and still vulnerable with the bullying and all, but once again, you made his life worthwhile; he didn’t have to worry as much anymore.

He has you by his side now, and he’ll do anything to protect you in return as an act of kindness. Just like what you did by defending him back then.

[sassyhazelowl]

Fairy Tail Pride 2020

Prompt: "I don't think I can be your friend" Pairing: ace!Gajeel x demi!Levy Requested by: @tbehartoo @ft-wwtdp

                                                ~*~

"I don't think I can be your friend."

"Gajeel!" Levy shrieked, making him flinch at the unexpected reaction. "Don't you think there's a better time to talk about this?"

Bafflement crossed his face for a long moment before he registered her complaint, hefting her up onto the path, flailing and kicking and hyperventilating from the edge as easily as a kitten. Huffing and puffing, she fell to her knees on solid ground - away from the edge of the incline - before whipping her hand up to point at something behind him.

The dragon slayer's keen ears had been tracking the goon, and he dispatched the attacker with a causal fist.

"That's all ya have ta say 'bout it?" he lamented, taking out two more low skilled wizards without looking. The knocking of their heads sounded painful, but that's what they got for ambushing them in the middle of a very important conversation.

Levy huffed in exasperation before pointing him towards the last two enemies. Before he even got a chance to do anything about it, she flattened them with some script, a little too violently. Even Panther Lily winced a bit at the crunch and groans before giving a signal he was going to scout to make sure the coast was clear.

More likely he was trying to avoid second-hand embarrassment.

Coward.

"Gajeel, you make no sense," she complained as he reached to finish helping her up out of the dirt. While she busied herself brushing off the dirt that caked her hands and knees, Gajeel's eyes wandered around as he sought to explain, tongue tied all of a sudden. "Why can't we just be friends again? We've been good friends for awhile now, and not just friends, but co-workers and partners."

Cheeks burning, he checked to make sure they were away from the unfortunate bandits they'd left in the road behind them. Seeing they were in no state to eavesdrop let alone laugh at him, he tried again.

"Well, er, ya know, uh, well, ya know."

"No, I don't know! Spit it out, Gajeel!" she snapped, staring at him like the tiny intimidating beast she was, and his stomach did flip-flops in a funny way. "Now what are you grinning at? Do you think this is funny? Annoying me after I nearly fall to my death? You need to stop pretending to be Natsu!"

That wiped the silly grin off his face. He was not like that dumb flamebrain moron at all. Besides, he'd let something happen to his little shrimp over his head body; she was never in any danger.

"Idon'twanttosleepwithyou."

"Wh-what?"

"But, ah, I don't wanna be friends. Just friends," the dragon slayer amended swiftly before she could pounce on his poor choice of words.

Brow furrowed, she waited for more.

"I wanna be with ya like a man... but not like..." he blew his cheeks out, flushing dark red. "Ya know. 'Cuz, ya know..."

Something clicked and she snapped her fingers, "Oh, you want to date. You're asking me out! Well, trying to anyway. Gajeel, can't you just say that outright instead of scaring me half to death?"

"Yeah, but..."

She finished, "...you don't want to sleep with me."

He didn't reply. After all, Levy had been the one who had worked it out with him that he was asexual, after a few - what he thought were normal and causal!- conversations. Although, no conversation, he'd learned, was safe from Levy's prying mind and big nose. He still wasn't entirely sure she had the right of it, but she was the smart one in their duo, and he trusted her smarts and judgement. If she said he sounded ace, he wasn't going to reject it without thinking about it a bit.

Unfortunately, thinking had just dumped him where he was now. He absolutely adored Levy, absolutely, and he'd get her the moon if he could. But, to his limited knowledge, which mostly came from the questionable source of Juvia, dating involved physical intimacy as a requirement.

It was confusing as hell.

Levy had already confided she was demisexual, which made things way more confusing, because what if she didn't like him? What if she didn't want to have sex with him? What if there was zero attraction because he wasn't good enough? What if she was about to tell him that with so much regret and sorry and he definitely couldn't stand that...

"Gajeel, I'm not going to go out with someone who can't even ask me properly," she tsked seriously before giving him a mischievous smile, and he tried not to turn into goo. Soft, he was so disgustingly soft.

"Levy, will ya go out with me?"

She swatted his arm before leaning in, "Of course."

"And..."

"We'll figure it out. You don't have to sleep with someone to date them, and you don't have to date someone to sleep with them. And since you're thinking it, I think..." she flushed pink, "you're sexy. But don't let that go to your head!"

"Gihihi..."

"Gajeel, I'm serious."

His grin spread to the size of his ego in response.

[xirayn]

Wizards of the Coast, put Anthony on a panel, you cowards!

[melleonis]

Wifelink Zendikar

i don’t know for a fact that the Wizards of the Coast creative team were collectively going through an eighties glam metal phase back in 2015, but it sure fucking seems like it. i don’t know if they were getting laid enough either, but i’m going to guess...no.

Weapons Trainer (art by Greg Opalinski)

You’ve gotta imagine that up until the very second the Eldrazi showed up again, this woman was wearing pantsuits with massive shoulder pads and doing apocalyptic quantities of cocaine in vampire nightclubs.

Drana’s Emissary (art by Karl Kopinski)

Vampire nightclubs aren’t really mentioned in Zendikar’s lore but given that all vampire art this block is at least this horny - in both senses of the word - I am forced to conclude both that vampire nightclubs exist, and that they fucking own.

Bloodbond Vampire (art by Anna Steinbauer)

The only reason this woman isn’t the gayest thing Ms. Steinbauer has ever painted is that Grand Warlord Radha is the gayest thing it is possible to paint. Still, with a ludicrous pose, an oddly-sweet high-cheekboned face, and a whole lot of loving attention being paid to her hips and cleavage - which her body paint will helpfully point out, in case you missed it - this is pretty close to total self-indulgence. And you know what? Good. Good for you, Ms. Steinbauer. Keep living your best life.

Malakir Soothsayer (art by Greg Opalinski)

Hey, uh, Greg, real quick - you ever, like, seen someone ride a horse? Did they maybe, like, brace their feet in the stirrups and bend their knees and sit on their ass like a person? No? They just did the splits and sat straight pussy-down on the dang saddle? You sure about that, Greg? Doesn’t that seem like it’d be really uncomfortable? Oh, sorry, my mistake, I see you’ve subtly indicated in your painting here that this young vampiress has in fact reinforced her clothing with a substantial layer of crotch padding, right there below the underbust corset. So that’s alright, then. Carry on!

(This image is a fucking synaesthetic masterpiece, by the way. I can’t look at it without being overwhelmed by the phantom aroma of vaginal juices.)

(I don’t know what the deal is, either. Greg doesn’t do this in any of his other MtG paintings. I think it’s just that Zendikar vampire art is required to be as horny as fucking possible.)

(Also, sorry I said ‘vaginal juices’. I promise that was at least as unpleasant for me as it was for you.)

Drana’s Chosen (art by Deruchenko Alexander)

As Horny As Fucking Possible, Now With Chains!

Kalitas, Traitor of Ghet (art by Todd Lockwood)

This might be a Technically Bisexual Interlude? I break out in a sweat every time I look at this picture, so that might be arousal. Or revulsion. Or fear.

Hey, those vampires were A Lot, huh? Let’s palate-cleanse for a moment.

Murasa Ranger (art by Eric Deschamps)

“What an absolutely adorable cutie,” she said about a hardened wilderness survivalist with no fewer than five visible weapons, “what a gosh dang sweetie-pie!”

Coralhelm Guide (art by Victor Titov)

Oh, yeah, the merfolk art in this block is just about as horny as the vampire art. Also, a lot of them wear fishnets, which seems unnecessarily macabre for a water-dweller. Like if I made some half-assed attempt to cover my tits with barbed wire, that’s about the effect we’re looking at here.

Jori En, Ruin Diver (art by Igor Kieryluk)

Good thing thighs don’t need armor!

Akoum Stonewaker (art by Victor Adame Minguez)

This woman has personally attended every Bon Jovi concert.

Zulaport Chainmage (art by Chris Rallis)

This woman lost her virginity in the backseat of her girlfriend’s Camaro to “Thunder Kiss ‘65″.

Topan Freeblade (art by Johannes Voss)

I’m reasonably certain this woman was in a Dio-era Black Sabbath music video.

Kor Sky Climber (art by Victor Adame Minguez)

Oh, I fucking love this piece. You get a real sense of weight and momentum, and unf, that taut upper-body musculature.

Kor Bladewhirl (art by Steven Belledin)

Now, it’s true that Kor Bladewhirl is less caught up in the ecstasy of flight than her sky-climbing sister above. It’s true that she’s less ethereally-lit, less kinetic, and less pretty. However, counterpoint: she’s buff as hell, has a rope with a heavy piece of metal on the end, and is Supremely Unimpressed.

Giant Mantis (art by Lake Hurwitz)

You bet your ass I would on account of I know what the fuck I like and I am not a fucking coward.

[underwaterbanshee]

When I say Well That Escalated Quickly, what I mean is, for the last eight episodes all we had to worry about was an accidental summoning of a Lesser God trying to eat the Menagerie Coast. There was never any danger of a serious fracture inside the group.

Some things can be water under the bridge because of how found a family the Mighty Nein is.

But within the last thirty mins of last night’s episode, everything changed the moment Nott knocked on a door and demanded Where is my son? Because of all the people inside this group, that understand the acute loss of beloved family members, Caleb, while he might not be directly involved, may end up hurting Nott simply because he is a coward.

And that’s not something a found family can necessarily understand. How do you choose us, time and again, and then not put yourself on the line, for the one of us you admittedly love the most?

I think so much is going to depend on Caleb being honest with the group and confronting part of his past, rather than running away on the excuse that he’s not strong enough yet. Nott will most likely apologize once she calms down. And yes, she definitely hurt Caleb when she rejected him in that room, but if that pragmatic wizard, who sees everything as a transaction, really wants to salvage this single relationship, he is going to have to be vulnerable to more than just Beau. It’s gotta be everyone.

Caleb might not be ready to grow, but the cohesion and future of the Mighty Nein might depend on it.

The other possibility is, of course, all of these feelings and thoughts, will be obsolete within twenty minutes into the next episode, because that’s how they roll.

[thedandeliongarden]

D&D definitely has a whole army of racists in the wings, but I’ve got something real spicy for you - in D&D, they are actually “races”.

They aren’t species (at least for the most part) because they can interbreed.

The only objection I accept is “half-races in D&D aren’t fertile” but that ain’t canon.

Now, admittedly Wizards of the Coast are cowards who try to pander to bigots and good folk alike, but the bigots are losing ground - they lost their minds when Tasha’s was released (decoupling race and base stats as an optional rule), and were whining when one D&D playtest material outright stated all playable races can interbreed.

(Admittedly I was also cross with that section, but for the opposite reason - they made it a flavour choice rather than a mechanical one)

So yes, there definitely is a serious issue with ethnostates in fantasy - and D&D is a perpetrator - but they are races, not species, and that will be firmly entrenched by the current trajectory of OneD&D (aka D&D 5.5E)

The issue is the ethnostates, not the greater intra-species variation

fuck tolkein and fuck dnd for being the originator and modern popularizer respectively of the race science tropes that have glued themselves parasitically to the fantasy genre and refuse to come off

[random-jot]

@ wizards of the coast

Owlbears are a result of magic experimentation gone wrong. It’s only logical that those same experiments created a Reverse Owlbear. A Bearowl, if you will.

What I’m saying is put a Reverse Owlbear in d&d, you cowards

[words-writ-in-starlight]

‘bandaging each other’s wounds’ with Caleb and Fjord? romantic or platonic, whatever you feel like is totally cool!

Fjord doesn’tliterally draw the short straw, but he kind of philosophically draws the short straw.  Nott has already said her piece—and said it,and said it, and said it—and while it might be good for Caleb to hear it again,it’s not going to achieve the goal they’re working toward here.  And Beau, through some twist of fate thatFjord didn’t quite follow, somehow became Caleb’s next best friend out of themall, the person he trusts to follow away from a fight when he loses himself,the person who he trusts to be his conscience when the skeletons in his closetthreaten his judgement, so normally this would be Beau’s job, but—

There’s some stuffthat Fjord just feels like he needs to do his own self.

Jester is tapped outcold, and they already used up all their potions just getting everyone walking,so Fjord goes up to the innkeeper and tries to look as charming as possiblewhile smiling through a split lip and a nasty black eye.

“Hey, I hate toimpose, but do you happen to have any bandages? Some rags you wouldn’t mind losin’? I can pay.”  He gets a suspiciouslook in return, but a silver gets him around a dozen clean undyed rags and abowl of water, and another silver even gets him a small pot of burn salve whenhe asks for it—highway robbery, really, but he’ll take it.

He carries rags,water, and salve upstairs and knocks on the door to Caleb and Nott’s room.

The voices on theother side—one voice, really, Nott’s raspy squeak interspersed with a dullmumble in Caleb’s soft tenor—come to a sudden stop, and there’s a light thumpfollowed by the door opening.

“Hey, Nott,” Fjordsays, and holds up his loot from the innkeeper defensively when she squints upat him.  “Can I come in?  I want to patch up your boy.”

“Let him in, Nott,”Caleb’s voice says when Nott spends a moment too long debating.  “And go celebrate with the others.  I will sleep, and tomorrow Jester will finishputting me back together.  I promise notto fall out the window while you’re gone,” he adds with a faint note of humor.

Nott huffs, dissatisfiedwith—probably a lot.  Probably once Calebgoes to sleep, they’ll all be on the receiving end of a mildly drunk goblinwith a chip on her shoulder about how they need to protect Caleb better.  Probably Nott will stay up, fretting overCaleb, and hammer down Beau and Jester’s door the moment they’ve been asleeplong enough for Jester to be able to cast again.  Probably Nott will hover tomorrow, will comeup with things that Caleb can do—for her, of course, as a personal favor toNott—that just happen to includegoing to a bookstore, or spending a day in a library, or eating the biggestmeal Caleb can be convinced to sit down to.

Honestly, the worstpart is that they won’t mind.  They don’tmuch need to be shamed into taking better care of their wizard in a fight,true, but Jester is downstairs wringing her hands over having used her lastspell to kill an owlbear rather than letting Molly do it, and Beau has snappedat four people because she used her last healing potion two days ago and didn’tremember to buy more, and Molly is still sluggishly bleeding from the neckwhere he cast a maledict to raise Caleb from unconsciousness.

For a confessedcoward, Caleb isn’t actually thatgood at staying safely back, where his bigger, tougher friends can take thehits for him.  It’ll make them all feel alittle better to have Nott yell at them for it.

“Fine,” Nott finallyagrees, and smiles at Fjord in the calculated way that shows all of herneedle-point teeth.  “I’ll be up to checkon him later.”

“Gotcha,” Fjord says,and offers her a polite little nod of his head as she ties her mask on andscuttles away down the hall.

“Come in, Fjord,”Caleb says, hissed through his teeth, and Fjord does, pushes the door open theadditional few feet to let him through, then kicks it gently shut behindhim.  “Was ist das?” he adds, nodding to Fjord’s hands, and it takes Fjorda moment to answer.

Caleb is sittingcross-legged on the bed, his coat spread out beneath him and his shirt foldedin the corner, far neater than the dirty, tattered material deserves, and asfar as Fjord can tell, he’s trying to bandage his own ribs.  It’s obviously going poorly—the torn up sheetisn’t holding in place, and his side and belly are smeared with blood fromwhere the makeshift pad has slipped down. One hand is pressed awkwardly over the pad without regard for theblisters rising on Caleb’s hand and arm, and the other is holding a fistful ofthin strips of sheet, and Caleb looks a little apologetic, confused, even.  He looks just like the kid Fjord’s ship tookon at the southern point of the Menagerie Coast, who hid every injury he tookand who finally got dragged to Fjord by another middie, shoved into thequartermaster’s cabin while Fjord was counting up the crew’s rationrequirements.  It had taken Fjord a goodhour to talk the kid into letting their bard take a look at the place where asheet had whipped back and lacerated his thigh—Martine had more importantmagics to do, and the injury wasn’t that bad, the kid had argued.

Fjord hadn’t, in theend, so much talked the kid into itas he’d heard him out until the kid started repeating himself, and then stuckhis head out the cabin door and hollered until Martine came and healed hispseudo-prisoner.

So Fjord makes surehe’s between Caleb and the door when he sets the water and rags and salve down,and says, “Jes’ is gonna get you all patched up tomorrow, but I was thinking wecould get some bandages on you now. Looks like you’re having some trouble with it, yourself.”

“It’s fine,” Calebsays.  “I’ve had burns before.  It’s unavoidable, learning magic.”

“Yeah,” Fjord saysevenly, moving Caleb’s folded shirt out of his way and taking a seat, justwithin arm’s reach of Caleb.  The clawwounds and the burn are on the same side, conveniently enough, so he won’t haveto lean over Caleb or move around too much—Caleb is looking a little tense justhaving Fjord on the bed with him, he doesn’t normally let people this closeunless he initiates it, and that’s fine and all but Fjord is going to get hivesif he doesn’t do something here.  “So Ifigure you know that moving around that much is probably going to make theblisters burst.”

“Jester will healthem tomorrow,” Caleb says, watching Fjord lay out the clean remains of thesheet, the rags, and the burn salve carefully. “It is not a problem.”

“It’ll hurt like abitch, though,” Fjord parries, still very polite and very calm as he opens theburn salve and sets it aside.  “And itmight get infected.  Give me this,” hesays, putting just a note of command into his voice, and Caleb yields up hisclumsy pad of sheet without more than a moment of hesitation.  “These still look pretty bad,” Fjord goes onas he dunks a rag into the water and starts cleaning away the dried and dryingblood on Caleb’s ribs.  “Sorry, am Ihurting you?”

“Nein,” Caleb says, holding so still it looks like he might not bebreathing.  His ribs stand out againsthis skin, his spine as clear as a line of pearls and the bones of his shoulderand collarbone sharp and angular under a layer of pale flesh and freckles.  Fjord doesn’t comment on it, but he rememberswhat Molly said last week, that he just wants to feed Caleb until he looks lesslike a skeleton and would that be too much to ask?  Fjord thinks he might have to help Molly outon that quest, because this is genuinely a little upsetting.  They’ve only been traveling together a monthor two, not nearly enough time to really resolve what looks like years ofeating on a few coppers a week plus whatever he and Nott could steal, but theyhave gold now.

Caleb lets out abreath when Fjord stops cleaning his ribs, and it shakes a little.

“Done with that,”Fjord says, keeping his voice steady.  Healways tries to be steady, for this little crew of maniacs he’s fallen in with,but Caleb seems to respond well to it right now, like a feral cat—he’s not sureif, in that metaphor, Caleb can smell fear or is afraid.  Maybe both. “Gonna wrap up your ribs now, and then I’ll do your arm.  Sound good?”

“I can handle myarm,” Caleb says stiffly.  “I do not wantto keep you from the others.”

Fjord folds two ragsinto a square big enough to cover the three gashes, where the owlbear’s clawscaught on Caleb’s ribs and skidded rather than punching through—probably savinghis life, but leaving ugly, jagged wounds behind.  “Don’t worry about it.  What, do you think we’re getting hammereddownstairs without you?”

His tone makesCaleb’s lips twitch, almost invisible, but they’re all of them getting good atreading him now, the nervous little flashes of emotion that he usually tries tosmother.  “Are you not?”

“Not so much,” Fjordsays, pressing the rags to Caleb’s ribs. “Hold these for a second—with your otherhand, goddamn.”  Caleb does as he’s told,holding his burned hand out of the way and letting Fjord start wrapping stripsof sheet around his chest.  “You know,”Fjord says, keeping his eyes on his work, “the others are real worried ‘boutyou.”

“It is not—not theirfault.”  Caleb hisses halfway through, whenFjord tightens the bandaging a little. “They shouldn’t worry.”

“You almost gotfuckin’ gutted in front of them,” Fjord says, almost snaps.  “In front of us.  Forgive us if we’re alittle invested in that not happening.” He feels his accent slip and takes a beat to breathe, holding thebandaging still before he tucks it into place, sits back, and starts talkingagain.  “And then you lit it on fire. While it was on top of you.  You’re damn lucky you didn’t die, Molly hadto wake you up again.”

“I am sorry,” Calebsays, looking down and exploring  Fjord’sbandaging job with his uninjured hand. “I should have thought—I assumed it was the last one.  I should have thought that there might bemore.”

Fjord stops halfwaythrough reaching for the burn salve. “What the fuck?”

“The othersseemed—okay, though,” Caleb continues, glancing up and meeting Fjord’s gaze fora moment before his eyes skipped away again. “No one got hurt, did they?”

“Just you,” Fjord says, and leans heavily onthe last word.  “There weren’t any otherowlbears, Caleb.  We just thought youmight’ve, you know, bought it before we got to you.  Freaked us all right the hell out, abit.  What’d you think I meant?”

Caleb looks downagain.  “I thought someone might havegotten hurt, is all.  Since I wasn’tmaking myself—particularly useful.”

“Useful enough, allright?” Fjord asks, picking up the burn salve. This—he’s out of his depth here. He can tell Caleb he’s valuable as more than a fighter, that they give adamn about him, but he’s pretty sure he needs to know more about what he’sarguing against, first.  Fjord makes amental note to let Beau know that Caleb might need some friendly yelling.  Maybe another awkward hug.  “Savin’ your own ass is useful enough,” herepeats.  “Even if you almost deep-friedyour arm while you did it.  Give ithere.”

Caleb holds out hisarm silently, and Fjord scoops salve out with his fingers, smoothing it overblisters and crumpled skin, using another rag to dab at the places where theblisters have burst under Caleb’s inattention and leaked fluid over his arm.

“So,” Fjord says,casting about for a more upbeat subject. “You said you burned yourself a lot, learning magic?  This must be nothing, huh?”

“I, ah.  Ja,”Caleb says softly, and there’s a lie there, a lie that Fjord can’t quite pindown.  “I burned myself a lot.  Fire is—fire is hard to control.  Any magic can hurt you, if you’re newenough—but fire is the worst.”

“One time I almostgot dragged up into the topsail of a ship I was on,” Fjord says as he daubssalve over Caleb’s burned palm.  “Gotdistracted and the sheet—the rope, you know—it got wrapped around myankle.  Broke it like a twig, just.”  He snaps with his clean hand todemonstrate.  “The crew had to untangleme before they could heal me—just hangin’ there, like a freshly trussed upturkey.  I’d been on the ship about amonth, most embarrassin’ thing ever happened to me, probably.”

Caleb gives a quietchuckle.  “Ah, what did you do about yourankle?”

Fjord shrugs as he closesthe burn salve.  Caleb flexes his handthoughtfully, and Fjord gives him a light slap on the knee to make him stop.  “Don’t go messin’ around with it.  They had a healer on board, he fixed me righton up once they’d had their laugh.”  Hechuckles a little at the memory—it was a little funny even at the time, afterhis ankle wasn’t busted anymore, and he’s had enough time that it’s all funny, now—anduses his last clean rag to wipe off his hand, setting it on the table with the sealedburn salve, bloodied water, and stained cloths. There’s a moment of silence before Caleb speaks.

“Danke—thank you,” Caleb says. “For this.”

“Don’t mention it,”Fjord says cheerfully.  “Happy to help.  You need anythin’ else?  And get another shirt, Jes’can cast Mending on that one tomorrow. Might be past savin’, though.”

“It’s fine,” Caleb murmurs,blinking slowly and smothering a yawn in his hand.  “I’ll deal with it.”

Fjord pauses,standing up and halfway through gathering up the bloody detritus that shouldn’tbe left lying around for the inn’s maids to stumble across.  His new friends have a talent for terrifyingmaids, through no fault of their own, and he feels obliged to take steps.  “Caleb, you tell me the truth.  No bullshit, now.  You own more than one shirt, right?”

“Of course,” Caleb obviously lies.

“Bullshit,” Fjordsighs.  “Listen, you just sit tight andwe’ll get you another one—somewhere,” he adds with a frown.  It’s probably about ten at night.  Fjord isn’t sure what clothiers are going tobe open at this hour, but he’ll buy a damn shirt off someone on the street ifhe has to.  “I promise not to let Mollyor Jester pick, okay?  Try and getsome sleep, you look exhausted.”

He books it out thedoor before Caleb can argue, and you know what?

Fjord feels like hewon this one.

[nukepone]

paigescribe replied to your post: What do you think are some differences between...

According to Wizards of the Coast, they’re one in the same

WotC is a bunch of shithead cowards

[voidpants]

wizards of the coast make gnolls a playable race you cowards