#magic and mischief

[chashupak]

That one BG3 fanfic deleted scene where Pre-Orb Gale takes fashion advice from a rogue

Live Fanfiction Link: [The Starfall Gambit]

Why Scrapped: Earlier CPR scene changed the tone of Act 1 to incorporate more vulnerability. Unintentional intimacy’ll do that. This chapter was created prior to Gale developing his post-drowning trauma. This chapter maintains more antagonism and humor that didn’t quite fit their new dynamic.

Chapter I.7 Smoke, Mirrors, and Misfits (Alternative)

Gale completed the incantation with practiced precision, the Disguise Self spell settling over him like a second skin. The magic shimmered briefly before solidifying into his chosen appearance—a Drow warrior of obsidian pallor and white hair, handsome in its own way yet purposefully opposite to his every trait.

He pushed through the adjacent doors and surveyed the luxury suite's sitting room, noting with irritation that Lyanna had made herself quite comfortable during his absence. She lounged across his sofa, one leg dangling over the armrest, tossing an ornate sphere from hand to hand as though it were a child's toy. Cute, were it not his personal enchanted Valdiani communication orb.

"Your turn," he said, striding across the room and snatching the orb mid-air. He clutched it against his chest. "Mind applying even a quarter of your focus to the mission you've committed yourself to?"

Lyanna peered up at him, head draped over the armrest. Her eyes flicked over his new appearance. A question seemed to form behind her eyes, one she evidently decided against asking.

"I'm not the one who spent the entire afternoon on a tea break... Blue Eyes,” she said, the new nickname rolling off her tongue with tentative curiosity.

"A consultation with Sharn's magical council is hardly a 'tea break,'" Gale replied, carefully returning the orb to its protective housing on the mantelpiece. "They required my expertise on unstable planar convergences affecting the city's lower levels."

"Semantics," she said, springing to her feet and brushing nonexistent dust from her coat.

Gale knew the implications of his chosen disguise weren't lost on her. Drow were infamously rejected by most on the grounds of their cultural depravity, fueled by both rumors and truths surrounding Menzoborranzean. But it was precisely the race’s more unsavory reputation that prompted such a disguise. One common to illegal auctions, darker corners of cities, and routinely examined only skin-deep. A pragmatic choice based on statistics.

Though he did wonder briefly why she hadn’t questioned his choice of disguise. The Lyanna he was coming to know rarely held back her opinions, so often presented in pointed jokes or private smirks.

“So,” she said, rummaging through one of her many pouches. “You always answer the ‘call to adventure’ when some fancy attendant comes knocking? Not that I mind waiting around in luxury, just thought Mystra’s Chosen’d have more choice about how he spent his time.”

"My position isn't mere luxury," Gale replied, gathering their research materials from the desk where they'd spent the previous evenings plotting their approach to the Midnight Market. He carefully folded the papers, sliding them into his bag of holding for safe keeping. "It's responsibility worthy of the honor bestowed."

"That's unfortunate,” she said, producing a small crystalline vial filled with swirling mist of green and gold.

With a flick of her thumb, she uncorked it and took a swig, the magic enveloping her in a brief shimmer that filled the air with the scent of rose water and sandalwood. When it faded, a nondescript human stood in her place—scraggly black hair, unremarkable features, a frame slightly smaller than her own. The perfect forgettable face in stark contrast to his own deliberately intimidating Drow appearance.

"Quicksilver Mist," she explained, catching his curious glance. "Half potion, half enchantment. A trick some old man taught me. Less predictable than your fancy spellwork, but it gets the job done."

It wasn't the first time she'd referenced this mysterious source of her more practical knowledge. Over their days of planning, ‘some old man said’ had become her own turn of phrase. 'Some old man taught me you never pick a first-floor window when there's a second,' she'd explained while sketching the auction house layout, or 'some old man said looking confident gets you further than actually knowing what you're doing' when Gale questioned her infiltration techniques. The advice was invariably useful, often delivered with a casualness that belied her evident reliance on it.

She tossed the empty vial into his waste bin before shedding her coat. With an easy sweep, she lay her coat bare on the bed, taking inventory of her many pouches with methodical attention. A parcel curiously lay by her side.

Gale flicked his fingers, lifting the discarded vial from the bin with a simple Telekinesis spell before Disintegrating it into fine dust. No evidence, no traces for curious attendants to discover.

"The Midnight Market will be at its busiest soon according to your information," he noted, checking the ornate timepiece on the mantel.

Lyanna's eyes sparkled with mischief as she tossed him the wrapped parcel. "Almost. Just need the finishing touches."

Gale unwrapped the package, his expression shifting from curiosity to horror as he realized what he was holding. The outfit seemed designed to reveal rather than conceal, with strategic cutouts and shimmering magical enhancements.

"You cannot be serious," he said, his voice tight with dignity fighting a losing battle against disbelief.

"The Midnight Market has rules," Lyanna picked at one their leftover carts of food from last night’s planning session, expression suspiciously neutral. "Everyone wears attire that signals their... profession." She gestured vaguely at the ensemble. "You're posing as a court enchanter to a specialized establishment."

"Specialized," Gale repeated flatly, lifting one piece of the outfit between thumb and forefinger as if it might bite. "Is that what we're calling pleasure houses these days?"

"Oh please," Lyanna rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me Mystra's Chosen is too prudish for a simple disguise."

"This isn't about prudishness," Gale countered, shoulders squaring as if preparing for battle. "It's about dignity. Mine, specifically, which seems to matter remarkably little to you."

“What matters is getting that tome,” she countered. “Which for me, means sneaking up to your quarters to hash it out, and for you, it means blending in. Besides, it’s not even your real face that people’ll be gawking at. Why? Got something better?”

Gale studied her face, searching for deception and finding only practiced earnestness. With a long-suffering sigh, he gathered the offensive garments.

"Fine," he said, voice clipped. "But when this is over, we will be having a discussion about boundaries."

"Looking forward to it," Lyanna replied with a barely suppressed smile as he retreated to change.

---

The gate to the Midnight Market looked unremarkable. A weathered door sat beneath a sagging sign in Sharn’s Lower District. Only the muscled half-orc standing guard offered any hint of its true nature. He watched them approach, his face unreadable.

"Names," he grunted.

"Nightsong," Lyanna replied smoothly, handing the man a specially-marked playing card. "And guest."

The guard's gaze swept over them, lingering on Gale's attire with a raised eyebrow. Gale felt heat rising to his cheeks but forced himself to stand tall, channeling every ounce of aristocratic disdain he'd perfected in Waterdeep's high courts.

"Interesting choice," the guard muttered before stepping aside.

As they descended the narrow staircase, Gale pulled his ridiculous excuse for a cloak tighter around himself. "I'm seriously reconsidering our arrangement," he muttered, unable to keep the edge from his voice.

“Relax,” she whispered back. “Look confident. Surely, you’ve faced down greater nightmares than this. You can handle a few stares.”

The staircase opened into a vast underground chamber, the ceiling lost in perpetual shadow. Arcane lights hovered in clusters, casting pools of colored illumination across scattered groups of market-goers. Music wound through the air, atonal and hypnotic.

Gale braced himself for the debauchery Lyanna had described. The hellish landscape of depravity and repressed desires laid bare. He felt it in the way the Weave shifted. How the negative space between its structured lattices grew, a mix of Shadow Weave and more unsavory magics, leaving him on the edge.

But instead, as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw… none of that. Merely regular merchants, guards, nobles in ordinary cloaks, and rougher types in practical leathers. Yes, there were courtesans and pleasure-workers present, but they composed perhaps a tenth of the crowd.

And not a single person was dressed remotely like he was.

Gale turned slowly toward Lyanna, comprehension dawning with the force of a lightning bolt.

"You—" he began, voice strangled somewhere between fury and disbelief.

Lyanna's composure cracked like spring ice. Her laughter bubbled up, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed mirth as she pulled him between two stalls, out of the main thoroughfare.

"The look on your face," she gasped between breaths. "Worth every copper."

"This was a joke?" Gale hissed, genuine anger flashing in his eyes. "We are here for a Netherese artifact that could unmake this entire city, and you thought this was an appropriate time for—for what, exactly? Humiliating me for your amusement?"

Still chuckling, Lyanna reached for the ties of her fitted bodice. With a few practiced movements, what had appeared to be a provocative ensemble revealed itself as clever layering. She undid clasps and unfurled hidden panels until she stood before him in perfectly ordinary attire—practical, modest, and entirely unremarkable.

"Here," she said, offering a folded cloak from her pack, her smile fading as she registered his anger. "I brought this for you."

"So this was all just—what?" Gale demanded, snatching the cloak but making no move to put it on, still visibly seething. "A test? A game?"

Lyanna shrugged, a hint of uncertainty flickering across her face. "You always carry yourself like..." she gestured vaguely at his rigid posture, "...that. I thought maybe perfection got boring after a while. A bit of imperfection. Seemed lonely at the top is all."

Something in her expression suggested deeper observations—ones she wasn't voicing. In their days of working together, Gale had noticed her watching him when she thought he wasn't looking, her gaze occasionally lingering on the careful distance servants and colleagues maintained around him.

Gale unfurled the cloak with as much dignity as he could muster, simultaneously casting a silent Transmutation spell that reformed his scandalous attire. His anger hadn't dissipated, but something in her explanation had punctured its full force. Not her words but the momentary vulnerability behind them.

"Next time you feel inspired to dismantle my dignity," he said, his tone still crisp with irritation, "perhaps consider alternatives to public humiliation."

"Where's the fun in that?" she countered, hesitantly reaching up to straighten his collar, the gesture unexpectedly careful. "Besides, you were never in danger of actual embarrassment. I wouldn't do that to you."

The sincerity in that last statement caught him off guard. For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then Gale stepped back, adjusting his new cloak with precise movements.

"Let's find this tome," he said, his voice still carrying traces of annoyance but lacking its earlier heat. "Before I reconsider this entire arrangement."

"Lead on, Blue Eyes," Lyanna replied, falling into step beside him. Her teasing had returned, but with a gentler edge. "Though I have to say, you pull off resentful dignity remarkably well for someone who was dressed like a discount pleasure worker."

“I will remind you,” Gale said with deliberate precision, “You are testing the patience of a man who could transmute the very fabric of your being into something far less troublesome. Mystra's teachings coincidentally include seventeen distinct methods of enforced silence.”

“Oh, mind giving me better hair the second go-around then? Always been a morning battle with this nest,” she replied, already moving ahead into the market's depths.

Gale felt his irritation beginning to give way to something more complex. Not quite amusement, not yet, but perhaps the distant ancestor of it.

[fablewalker]

A little doodle of one of the Gods in my Homebrew D&D campaign! This is Wren, the Goddess of Love.

[fruitybatarts]

Crux, The God of Renewal

[a2remedy]

DPXDC Prompt# 5- War between Warlocks

-A dichotomy I love has always been hard worker vs natural talent, so let's take this running.

Constantine spent the day lying on his couch. A new pack of beer and smokes are beside him while he's watching one of Z's performances while she's off world. A usual partly cloudy in Liverpool.

It was nice....

-Or it would've been nice if he couldn't recall who he saw. Correction, who he thought he saw. Because there was no bloody way that magic-wielding bastard survived. ...

Shut up.

It wasn't real. It couldn't have been real.

But karma was a bitch and it was making itself known.

For once in his life, John's phone was still.

Nobody.

Nobody has reached out to him to exorcise anything for a week and he was slowly losing his shit. Looks like he has to go out and find out for himself. ---

Danny couldn't help but laugh.

That marks his 10th exorcism this week, and he could already see the con man pulling his hair out when he just chose to take a little weight off an old 'friend's' shoulders while he's on his vacation from ghost king business.

He must be pissed.

It couldn't be helped. Danny's natural disposition made magic a breeze. He's one of the most occult things there is, after all. If he can't dodge it all, he might as well embrace it. Who could've guessed it would come with the scruffiest blonde with a fun accent getting on his case? John Constantine. A delight to watch work and in bed. That's all in the past now, anyways. Sometimes, he just needed to take a minute to remind himself that he's human, too. What better way to do than to fuck with the one person he's felt most like that with?

He felt horrible thinking his last moment with John was going to be looking at the desperation and fear written all over his face. No need for that now. The spark of a locator spell flickered off his barrier on the rooftop. He cackled as he heard John's "I BLOODY KNEW IT!" through the streets. The phone in his pocket buzzed again. John really was such a busy man. He ensured the non-teleportation tattoo he made last time hadn't faded before hopping to the next roof and answering. "This is Hex speaking. I've stolen John's phone, but I can assure you I can get the job done ten times easier than he can." Making his way out of a portal on the roof he left, "I can hear you, cheeky bastard!" "That's the point, dipshit!" Danny stuck out his tongue and kept moving. Tsk. Barely 5 minutes to catch up. Looks like he's getting rusty. Oh well, nothing a little refresher and practice can't fix.

Thus began the reunion between a king and a con man.

[sototallynormaliswear]

thinking about them (stiles being able to create mountain ash out of nothing and then dispelling it without ever touching it, especially after the very next season shows that Allison has to physically touch mountain ash to break it) again

[puppetmaster13u]

Mermay Special Prompt 4

Go on vacation, they said. We can watch Gotham, they said. Just go hang with and adjust to caring for kids, they said. Yeah, well no one said anything about getting cursed while at the vacation lake house, which okay, fine. But did it have to affect the kids too? 

Bruce pressed his head in his hands, groaning in dismay as the children practically zoomed around the surrounding water with enthusiastic trills and squeals he could somehow understand. And through the air, to their increasing delight. Okay. Okay this is fine. 

It wasn’t like he also somehow now had an extra child who looked like one at most that he had no clue as to where they came from. Said child wasn’t squirming in his arms, black scales and tiny fins akin to the setting of a sun twisting as they chirped. Definitely not. 

Okay. Alright. He could figure this out. Probably…. hopefully…

[dreamsandconstellations]

I can’t wait for Evan or one of the other group actually hold K accountable for their actions.

What annoys me in fiction and tv is that often characters who do shitty things are let off the hook immediately, so I really hope that this doesn’t happen with K, because they deserve to be properly chewed out m

[358-2-genders]

This animal. The lowkey

[edmundpevensiesqueen]

elmo and rocco walked so jammer and tabby could run

[anxiousapplepie]

Something interesting I thought about for Rose Knights is that humans have unconscious limiters on our strength to prevent our own muscles from damaging us though adrenaline is capable of lifting some of these limiters, so do roses or dragons have anything like this because to me it seems like rose healing and dragon durability would make it unnecessary if they were that strong so if not the reactions from Lapis's team would be interesting.

Well both Black Roses and Black Dragons are perfect examples of what happens when your magic gets "pushed past the limit" in a really unhealthy and unsustainable way, so yeah! I think both the Roses and Dragons obey unconscious limits to their magic, which can be broken in a situation that makes them go "!!!" or if they are really determined to become their strongest self at any cost It's not a perfect parallel to human adrenaline, but breaking Rose and Dragon magic is something that will happen! And also the whole RK gang might see what happens when Lapis gets pushed into overdrive way down the line

[marvelmutantmagic616]

Loki | Thor (2011)

[fruitybatarts]

Enny Sweetmeadow, baker by day, magical girl by night!

[should-david-be-there]

david tennant w just a regular, completely normal, definitely not a stooge, audience member/hen party member/international tourist/loud snack eater/stalls row j seat 1 occupant

[krovscastlerpg]

Please reblog this list of anons in order to participate in the event. For players with multiple characters, please only reblog these posts ONCE on your main character account and tag your other participating character accounts in the caption below in order to avoid spamming the dash with the reblogged M!A lists.

Remember to send out anons to other players participating too!

If you are NOT participating in this event, DO NOT reblog this list!

Rule #63: Muse has been physically transformed into the female version of themselves. The effect lasts for 72 hours.

NOTE: For those who’ve reserved female FCs, you are guaranteed to receive this anon regardless if you follow through with it or not on the dash. If you have not sent in a fem!FC reservation then you WILL NOT receive this anon. Our list of taken genderbent FCs can be found here for reference.

Leather: Muse must wear a leash and collar, becoming extremely horny as a result. If another player sends this off anon, the muse must be their character’s slave for the duration and do whatever they ask. The effect lasts for 48 hours.

Obsession: Muse will be obsessed with another character of the sender’s choice. Their obsession will keep them thinking about this character non-stop and they might even resort to stalking. Their obsession can be out of love, lust, or hate (this is up to the player receiving the anon). The effect lasts for 24 hours. 

Inside Out: Muse’s thoughts are no longer private, as they’re now compelled to say everything they’re thinking about out loud for everyone to hear. The effect lasts for 48 hours. 

Roleplay: Muse is now dressed in a sexy costume and can’t remove it. This can be specified by the anon or chosen by the player. The longer they are dressed that way the more they take on the persona of what they are dressed as. The effect lasts for 24 hours.

Glitterati: Muse has gained the ability to sparkle, but the colour of the sparkle depends on their mood. e.g. Pink for happiness, blue for sadness, red for anger, green for jealousy, yellow for guilt etc. The effect lasts for 48 hours.

Honest Abe: Muse is unable to tell lies and will be forced to answer honestly with any question they’re asked. The effect lasts for 24 hours.

NOTE: This anon can trigger an anonymous honesty hour in the affected character’s inbox and/or be played out in threads at each player’s discretion. For those who would like an honesty hour, please link your character's ask box in our Discord OOC #anon-hours channel.

Say My Name: Muse will have a sudden orgasm every time someone says their name. The effect lasts for 48 hours.  

Freaky Friday: Muse has swapped bodies with another character of anon’s choosing. The effect lasts for 72 hours.

NOTE: Both players of the characters involved MUST agree to this FC swap BEFORE answering the anon on the dash.

Sexual Empath: Muse can detect how aroused everyone is around them, at all times, and ‘absorbs’ those feelings actively; If they’re near someone extremely horny for more than a few minutes, they’ll feel every bit of that emotion and will inevitably end up aroused. In addition, muse can hear surface thoughts from others expressing sexual desires towards the muse. The effect lasts for 48 hours. 

___ No Evil: Fill in the blank for the desired effect! Muse will become either blind (“See”), deaf (“Hear”), or mute (“Speak”) based on the sender’s choice. The effect lasts for 24 hours. 

Bound: Muse will be physically chained/handcuffed to [anon decides] and can’t break free until the spell ends. The effect lasts for 48 hours.

Mask Off: Oh no! Does your muse have a human disguise hiding their true form? Not any more! Any disguise hiding a supernatural’s true form is now broken with no way for the character to restore it until the spell ends. The effect lasts for 72 hours. 

Denial: Muse gets aroused more easily, but they cannot reach orgasm without permission from the person who cast this spell on them. The longer they’re denied, the more powerful that orgasm’ll be when they’re finally granted it… if they’re granted it. The effect lasts for 24 hours.

Body Mod: Muse has a specific physical trait changed, added, or removed by anon’s choice (eye color, height, scars, hair length or color, size, etc.). Anon can request anything as minor or as weird as they like. The effect lasts for 48 hours. 

Vive le Vibe: Muse has a remote controlled vibrating toy stuck inside them that they can’t remove. The sender of this spell will have the remote control for it that features settings from “off” to “max vibration.” What they choose to do with this power is up to the sender. The effect lasts for 24 hours. 

Flesh: Muse is insatiably horny and sensitive as if their whole body has become an erogenous zone. They also crave rough sex (being thrown/throwing their partner against a wall, biting, scratching, etc.). May need repeated rounds until feeling satisfied. The effect lasts for 72 hours. 

Spring Fever: Muse, regardless of their species, has been afflicted with the stereotypical symptoms of the common cold –– sneezing, coughing, congestion, runny/stuffy nose, chills, headache, fever, etc. Muse can only recover once the spell ends. The effect lasts for 24 hours.

Kinky Boots: Muse is now dressed in some sort of fetishwear (crossdressing, bondage gear, chastity devices, body harnesses, sex toys, anything leather or latex or other material, etc.) either at the anon’s specification or left to the player’s choosing and can’t remove it. The longer they are dressed this way the more aroused they’ll feel. The effect lasts for 72 hours. 

Species Change: Muse now has all the traits and abilities of a different species specified by the sender. Unspecified can be left up to the receiver to decide at random. The effect lasts for 48 hours.

[emotional-support-gummgumm]

Pudd is waiting at the foot of the cliffs where Wimble makes her nest. Her arms are folded and she's tapping her foot. -Daylightisminetoconsume

As an oblivious Wimble pokes her head out over the peak of the cliff to see what’s making the sound of tapping feet, Pudd can see, even from all the way at the bottom, the exact moment Wimble realizes who exactly is waiting for them. Wimble croons a mix of bashful and nervous vocalizations, bobbing her head about like an owl to try and see just how disgruntled her partner is with her before she heads down to her ‘doom’, waving a nervous hello.