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sheeple · 1 year ago

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Heirs of Hogwarts | part 2

Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): Mattheo being Mattheo / Matt beats up a bitch A/n: I COULDN'T WAIT TO FINISH WRITING CHAPTER 3 SO HERE IT ISSSSS. ALSOO... Kinda overwhelmed with all the positive feedback I've got on the first part. I hope this one is what you imagined it to be c: (not me having imposter syndrome) [Masterlist] [HoH masterlist]

Mattheo wasn't raised with an abundance of love. He was never abused, no, but there wasn't much familiar love between him and his parents and his older brother. Something about ancient wizarding standards or whatever.

That's why when he entered his first year at Hogwarts, something ugly festered within the boy when he saw you. You, another descendant of a founding member of Hogwarts, born into a family so full of love that it made you shine brighter than the sun herself.

Mattheo was jealous of the way your brothers welcomed you into Hufflepuff house, a proud smile on their faces. The way they hugged you and Professor Sproud beamed with pride to have another descendant of Helga Hufflepuff under her care. All Mattheo got was a stiff nod from Thomas and a sneer to not bother him.

It was not until the first class the Slytherins had with the Hufflepuffs that he decided that from that day onwards he despises you. The way the yellow of your cloak makes your skin radiate. The way you tie your hair with ribbons. The way that over the years, you've grown more beautiful than Aphrodite herself.

He also hates that now in sixth year, he has to be your partner for Herbology. You, who despite your heritage, hate Herbology. It makes Mattheo hate you even more because now you are not the perfect Hufflepuff princess everybody imagines you to be. Now you are human.

"If you keep staring at her like that, she might combust in flames", muses Thomas while he doesn't look up from his book. It gets the attention of other boys around them and they all look at the person Mattheo's staring at.

"Really?", scoffs Draco, his eyes flickering over your back, "Princess Perfect over there?"

Something boils from within Mattheo as his friends' eyes trail over your body. He clenches his jaw as he abuses the shepherd's pie on his plate.

The staring doesn't go unnoticed as one of your friends points it out and you turn towards the Slytherin table. Your eyes meet those of Mattheo and you give him a small but awkward smile before turning back, your shoulders slumping under the eyes.

It's not often that Mattheo hates himself. But right now he could kick himself to put the attention on you. "Why would I care about some prissy Hufflepuff?", he grumbles.

Blaise gives him an unimpressed look. "Don't act like you haven't had the biggest crush on the girl since first year. It's getting pathetic, Mattheo. Just go ask her out."

The others around share looks and grins. It pisses Mattheo off. Especially now that his brother's attention is fully on him. Can't they mind their own damn business?

"You're forgetting one thing, idiots."

That is another thing he hates about you. The boy next to you whose sleazy arm is resting on your shoulders. Piece of shit quidditch player and an even worse human being with wandering eyes. Even now, with you sitting so prettily next to him, he dares to make goo-goo eyes with a Gryffindor girl.

Gods it makes Mattheo crazy how you can choose him over any other dickhead at this school. That sleazeball over him.

But when he found you that night alone and moping over your now ex-boyfriend, a small spark of hope lit up inside him. And he took that spark to satisfy his own desires.

And now here you are, sitting in front of each other at the Three Broom Sticks, butterbeer in hand. You nervously trace the rim of the glass while Mattheo observes you. He wants to say something, but you beat him to it.

"So... what are the boundaries of this agreement?"

Mattheo lets out a huff of air. "Whatever you're comfortable with, princess."

Great. That gives you absolutely nothing. "Are you okay with... handholding? Or something similar?"

"Sure. I don't mind. What are your thoughts on nicknames?"

"As long as it's not Pookie. What should I call you? Nicknames are mutual." You send him a teasing eyebrow raise.

Mattheo rolls his eyes playful. "I couldn't care less. Also, to make it believable we should be seen together in school, you know. Otherwise, people won't believe it's real."

To be honest you have no qualms with that. You kinda expected it.

As the negotiations come to a close, the two of you decide to walk around Hogsmeade and get to know each other a little better as you will be seeing a lot of him.

Mattheo practically tackles you as you want to pay, stating that if it was a real date, he wouldn't let his lady pay for anything.

The stroll through Hogsmeade is filled with small talk, asking each other questions about preferences and other small tidbits as you pass by shops. That's how you discover that he's pretty good at Transfiguration and that Madam Pomfrey always gives him candies when he lands in the infirmary again after a Quidditch game.

While Mattheo tells a story about him, Draco and Theodore wrestling for the last apple lollypop Madam Pomfrey had, you round a corner and spot Malcolm walking your way. His hand is in Gladys' but he doesn't pay any attention to her yapping.

"Shit", you curse, ducking behind the wall. Mattheo looks at you with an amused look on his face as you pull him away from the main street by his wrist. "It's him."

The dark-haired boy glances around the corner, his eyes focusing on the sad sack of screechsnaps. The audacity of the guy makes his blood boil. Mattheo turns back towards you. "Do you trust me?"

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes flickering over his face. "My mom always said you shouldn't trust pretty brown eyes", you muse, not knowing how to take his question.

"So you think my eyes are pretty?", he asks, leaning close to you.

His sudden closeness makes you stutter and stumble over your words, the heat rising towards your cheeks. "I- no... what-?"

Mattheo lets out a lach. A genuine one at your confusion. He holds out his hand, palm up, and looks at you expectantly. You lay your hand in his own slowly. At that moment, the two of you realise how big his hand is compared to yours. How — when he laces your fingers together — his hand engulfs your own.

Mattheo pulls you closer, slinging his arm over your shoulder while still holding onto your hand. He pulls the two of you out of the alley and whispers to you that you should laugh like he said something funny.

You can do that. You faked all the time while being with Malcolm, how hard is a laugh? A laugh bubbles from you and you look up at Mattheo.

While you walk, Mattheo angles the two of you so that when you pass your ex, their shoulders bump against each other. The four of you stop and you make eye contact with him.

"(Y/n)", he says surprised, his eyes going from you to Mattheo — who still has his arm wrapped around you.

"Malcolm", you reply icy, clutching on tightly to Mattheo's hand before glancing towards the girl next to him. "Gladys. How... nice to see you."

Gladys gives you a sickly sweet smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "We didn't expect to meet you here. Especially not with... someone." She looks at Mattheo, who pulls you closer towards him.

"Yeah, we quite hit it off during Herbology so we thought why not try it, you know, now she's finally single. Thanks for that, mate." Mattheo cocks his head to the side, silently daring Malcolm.

But Malcolm's wide eyes are laser-focused on you. "Herbology?", he asks, his voice wavering.

"Oh yeah", you nod with a smile, "that Fluxweed report really brought us together, you know. You were right, Malcolm, I just needed to find something I would enjoy about the subject." You bite your tongue to not burst out laughing as you throw his earlier statement back into this face.

Malcolm's face sours and he tugs Gladys' hand before walking away without saying anything. When they're out of earshot, the two of you can't help but laugh.

"Merlin", you chuckle, "he really is pathetic, isn't he?"

Mattheo pulls you towards the opposite direction, his arm still around your shoulders. And weirdly... you don't mind it. He's nice and warm- ew that makes you sound weird. But as the day progresses and the shadows elongate, a shiver rolls down your spine.

Mattheo stops in his steps as the two of you walk back towards the castle. He shrugs off his jacket and holds it open for you to put your hands through the sleeves.

You protest. "I can't take your jacket, don't be silly." Walking past him, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.

"You're not taking it, I'm offering. So don't protest and take the damn jacket." He raises his brows in a silent way to tell you to not challenge him because he will strangle his jacket onto you if he has to.

With your cheeks feeling hot, you reluctantly slide your arms through the sleeves. As you play with the hem of the dark green jacket — which by the way smells like pine and smoke — you turn towards him. "Aren't you cold?", you question as he's only in a black shirt now.

Mattheo shakes his head, running a hand through his curls. "I run hot. Kinda brought the jacket in the hopes to give it to you."

You give him a teasing smile at his confession. "Do you now?"

"I wasn't raised with a lot of good, but at least my aunt instilled some decency into me." He reaches out and grabs his pack of smokes out of a pocket. He lights one and offers it to you. You shake your head and he shrugs.

The rest of the walk back towards the castle is spent in comfortable silence. You totally expect him to wave you goodbye when you enter through the thick wooden doors of the entrance hall, but he keeps on walking with you until you reach your common room.

He has his hands in his pockets as he watches you anxiously scratch at your fingers.

"I've had a lot of fun. Even if it was supposed to be fake. Thank you, Mattheo-"

"Matt."

You blink in confusion at his sudden word vomit. Mattheo himself seems embarrassed. "The whole nickname thing we talked about? You may call me Matt. If you like..."

A wide smile grows on your face. Standing up to your tippy toes, you lay a hand on his shoulder and press a feather-light kiss against his cheek. "Thank you, Matt. Have a nice evening."

Feeling like the butterflies in your stomach may burst out of their confinement, you quickly hurry through the barrel but remember that you're still wearing his jacket. When you turn around, you are met with an empty corridor.

Not knowing that the moment you turned around Mattheo Riddle — Heir of Slytherin and all around Hogwartsbad boy — practically sprinted towards the dungeons with his cheeks flaming hot.

It has been a couple of days since your 'date'. Because you've practically announced to the entirety of Hogwarts that the two of you are dating, you spend a lot more time together. At first, it was spent studying together. But slowly you two started to talk to each other more and more. About life and family and expectations.

Turns out the two of you aren't that different.

Hannah and Susan give you smug smiles every time Mattheo walks over towards you or when the two of you are seen together.

A paper crane lands on top of your open book and you look up from your notes. Mattheo — who's seated on the other side of the classroom — nods towards it and motions for you to unfold it.

You pout and shake your head, mouthing 'too adorable' towards him. He rolls his eyes playfully with a smile and flicks his wand, making the crane unfold on itself. Sending a disapproving look, you read the note.

You look over towards him and he does his best puppy eyes. Curse Mattheo Riddle and his beautiful brown eyes. Pursing your lips, you pretend to think about it, being quite dramatic about it. You look up at the ceiling with your brows knitted together while tapping your chin with your finger. But eventually, you drop the act and give him an enthusiastic nod.

Hannah, who has been following the interaction like a tennis match, snorts and almost draws the attention of the teacher towards you both. You hit her shoulder and quickly turn back towards your notes, ignoring the teasing grin on Mattheo's face.

"Shut up", you whisper towards her.

She leans closer to you. "Since when are you and Riddle close enough to hang out?"

Narrowing your eyes at her. "We're supposedly dating, remember?"

You almost don't want to admit it, but the classes can't pass by any quicker. You hardly pay attention in divination and muggle studies, way too excited for your date- wait... is it a date? No. It's just a hangout. Nothing more.

"Have fun with your date", teases Hannah once the final class of the morning is finished and you flip her off as you walk the opposite way.

As you round the corner, you bump against something and stumble slightly back. "Oh sorry", you mumble, finding your footing before looking up. "Oh...", escapes your mouth as you see it's Malcolm.

You move to pass by him but he grabs your shoulders. "I want to talk to you. I miss you..."

Pushing his hands away, you let out a scoff. He's sinking to a lower level than you thought possible. "Miss me? Miss me? What am I? Your mother?" You go to walk again but this time Malcolm's hold becomes stronger. He manoeuvres you towards an empty hallway. He presses you against the wall and you let out an 'oomph'.

"Is he forcing you to act like this? Did he put a curse on you? Are you imperio'd?" He reaches out to touch your cheeks, to check your eyes.

You harshly pull your face out of his hold. "Are you out of your mind?! Let me go!", you protest, trying to wiggle yourself out of his hold. "Mattheo did nothing to me."

He shakes his head, his fists tightening around your robes. "You're such a- a- slut! Opening your legs for any guy who gives you attention."

What the actual fuck! How dare he suggest such a thing?! You reel your head back and spit in his face. It hits him in his eyes and he flinches, stumbling a couple of steps back and wiping at his eyes.

"You bitch!", he wails. Raising his fist, he advances towards you and your hand reaches for your wand. But something comes flying from the side and knocks him off his feet.

Mattheo stands above him, pinning him to the floor and punching him in the face. You're glued to the spot and you can't help but watch how Mattheo beats the living daylights out of him.

Blood runs down his nose and his knuckles are cracked, but Mattheo enjoys beating your ex down to a whimpering mess. He can finally channel his pent-up frustration into something productive. And he won't deny that he didn't want to knock the teeth out of the prick's mouth.

Afraid that someone will spot the fight, you try to pry off Mattheo. You pull against his shoulder and make him lose the rhythm he was beating his fists down with. "Matt! Leave him! He's not worth getting in trouble for!"

Mattheo suddenly realises that you're here also and he gets off the snivelling boy on the ground, flexing and relaxing his hands. You grab one of them and pull him away from the crime scene. He needs to get fixed up, but where? One of the bathrooms is the possibility to be seen big. And you don't want unnecessary people asking questions. And you don't have any supplies in the bathroom.

You could manage to sneak him into your dorm. Most of your housemates are at lunch, so the common room should be empty.

Mattheo calls out your name, trying to make you stop but you shush him and keep on pulling him towards the barreled entrance. Once outside, you let go of his hand. "I'll check if the coast is clear and then I can fix you up."

Without waiting for an answer, you knock on the right barrel and the doors slide open. Glancing around the common room, you see nobody. Which is a surprising sight. Because the common room is so close to the kitchens, a lot of students opt to eat in their dorms. It's mostly the bullied students or the ones who don't want to deal with the Great Hall.

Waving him over, you pull Mattheo through the entrance and practically shove him up the stairs and into your dorm. He finally gets why you're bringing him to your dorm when you push him to sit on the closed lid of the toilet and fetch out a first-aid kit from under the sink.

"Do you bring a lot of boys towards your dorm?", asks Mattheo to break the silence as you search through the kit. He feels awkward sitting in your bathroom.

This isn't the first time that he is in another House's common room. He has sneaked into Gryfindor's loats and the parties at Ravenclaw are something you have to experience. But there was always something untouchable about the Hufflepuff area. It is a bragging right to have found out about the code to the entrance but an even bigger deal to be invited in.

And what he has seen so far makes him jealous. The Slytherin common room is always coated in a shade of greenish blue, thanks to the large windows looking into the lake. There is barely any warmth because of the ancient tiles of the dungeons. But here, everything is so warm, so welcome. Even with the only windows at the top, the common room is bright and comforting.

"Oh yeah, loads", you tease, "Especially non 'Puff ones." You give him a half-smile while pinching a cotton swap between your fingers. "Now… be still and this might sting." You dab against the cuts and wounds across his face, cleaning up the blood and disinfecting everything.

Mattheo isn't sure what to do with his hand. He's not sure if he can touch you, or pull you closer towards him while he wants to. He doesn't want to scare you away.

"Tell me a secret", you say softly, surprising yourself and him. When Mattheo gives you a raised eyebrow, you roll your eyes. "We're supposed to be dating, aren't we? Especially after you beat the shit out of my ex it's pretty solid for the students around us. And people who are dating know each other's secrets. So... tell me a secret."

There is an unreadable look on his face and you stop your ministrations, eyes locking with each other. "Did you know some of that piece of shit's secrets?", he muses with a small teasing smile on his face.

You huff. "Some..." Continuing, your movements are a little harsher than before. Because now that you think about it, you knew the bare minimum about Malcolm. It's also not like he let you get to know him. He didn't even come with you to Christmas at your home. And your family does a bomb-ass Christmas party each year. "I'll tell one if you tell one."

Mattheo seems to think for a moment, his focus on a spot over your shoulder as he filters through all his secrets and memories. "My family are Parselmouths."

Your mouth falls open and your hand stops in the air. "Like... like speaking to snakes? As in you hiss against snakes and they hiss back?" You eye him with amazement while his cheeks colour a bright red.

"I- it's not like that!" He tries to laugh away your question. "Parseltongue is more... yeah it's kinda like hissing", he admits, hanging his head a bit.

You wipe away the last of the blood and start to clean up. "Do snakes have accents? Or is it more of a universal language? And can everybody in your family do it?"

It's refreshing to Mattheo to find someone who isn't freaked out by his ability. He also finds your questions amusing. They are different. Fun. "I never noticed the accent thing. But I've only met one snake in real life, so I wouldn't know..."

"Can you say something?" You try your best to give him puppy eyes to convince him. But you've heard that you never were the best at it.

A laugh bubbles from within his chest. He looks at you through his lashes and clears his throat. His Adam's apple bops up and down as he swallows and his lips part. Out comes the strangest sound you ever heard. It's indeed a hissing sound, but at the same time his words — if you can call the noise he makes words — have a strange melody to them. It makes the hairs on your arms stand up straight.

"Wow", you whisper once he's done, "And what does it mean?"

"Well", laughs Mattheo, "That's a know for me and for you to figure out."

You chuckle, grabbing your wand to close the wounds, but he stops it. "Leave them be", he says, "It's proof of me beating his pathetic ass." He traces circles with his thumb atop your hand. "Now… what's your secret?"

You toss your head back with a silent laugh. "Fair. Fair. My family — for as long as we have known — are born Animagi. Every single child has been able to transform into a badger."

He raises his brows. "A badger? How fitting", he teases.

Rolling your eyes at his quip, you lean back against the sink with your hand still in his. You don't mind it, you even slightly enjoy it. The way the rough pad of his finger feels against your skin. "The whole Hufflepuff area kinda looks like a burrow. I get where Meemaw got the idea."

Mattheo lets out a sudden laugh. "Meemaw?" There is no ill content behind his laugh. It brings a smile of your own to your face.

"Helga Hufflepuff. She has a painting above the fireplace that's connected with one at home. Also above the fireplace", you laugh. But it slowly melts off your face as your words dawn upon you.

Mattheo slowly starts to become concerned at the look on your face. Your heart races in your chest. How could you be so stupid? How could you have forgotten about Meemaw?

"The painting is connected with home! Oh fuck! She will snitch on me! And now Mom and Dad will think we're...-!"

"Think we're what? Sleeping together? Is that such a horrible idea?" Mattheo straightens his back and his eyes darken.

You shake your head, running a hand over your face. "That's not what I meant. I wouldn't mind it, but I don't want my parents to know that! Ew", you frown and a shudder runs through your body.

The boy before you stands up and closes the space between the two of you. "You wouldn't mind?", he muses with a teasing grin on his face. He turns your head with his knuckles so you're looking at him and traces your bottom lip slowly.

Your lips part as you look up at him through your lashes. Your breath quickens and you feel his chest pressed against you with each rise of your chest. His scent fills your senses and consumes you. It's overwhelming. It makes your stomach do flips.

You wonder if he feels the same.

Just as you slowly angle your face towards him and close your eyes, a knock on the door makes you jump. Mattheo stumbles back, almost crashing against the toilet and landing in the bathtub.

"One- one moment!", you call out, quickly cleaning up the first-aid kit. Mattheo scrambles to straighten himself up before helping you.

The two of you share a look before you open the door. Mattheo slips out and rushes out of your dorm and out of the common room.

"No way?!", gasps Susan, her mouth agape.

"Was that-?", asks Hannah with wide eyes.

Sending the two girls a look. "Not one word!"

The next morning at breakfast your panic turns out not misplaced as your family's house owl comes flying towards you with a sealed letter for you.

Taglist (bold means I couldn't tag you): @mylosz0 @kermits-bitch @jolly4holly @daisiesformylove @frogtape @dancing-inasnowglobe @slytheos @undercover-smutlover @reverse-soe @nikkissecretlibrary @moon-struck-meraki @bengbengbengi @justhavingsomefun1 @itsamusical4lifee @genshingeeksworld @y0urm0m12

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 2 months ago

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Yuletide Chapter 1

I started this back in November, but obviously didn't finish it in time for the holidays. But I hope y'all will like it anyways.

Summary: Mr. Strange and his nephew Mr. Barnes were…different. The little town of Concord, Massachusetts isn’t used to the pharmacists’ strange ways, with rumors swirling of wizards and magic spells. Y/N doesn’t believe in any of those old folk tales, but does feel a pull towards Mr. Barnes, despite his standoffishness. Maybe his heart will melt during the most wonderful time of the year. Or maybe she’ll fall head first into a fantastical world she never thought possible.

*Set in early 1800s America

Next chapter

“Lady Y/L/N!”

Y/N turned to see her best friend, Wanda, jog towards her, almost slipping on the snow covered road. She smiled brightly at her. “Hello dearest!” she greeted her when Wanda reached her. Y/N took Wanda’s hands in hers and squeezed them. “Stop with the ladyship, please, for the thousandth time!”

“You know I love to tease,” Wanda said with a wry smile. “You’re coming to my family’s early Yule party tonight, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Y/N nodded. They fell in step walking down the street, their arms hooked together as they gossiped about the party and what they were wearing. Y/N stopped at one of the shops, picking up some ribbon for her hair for the party and then walking toward the apothecary.

“Oh, not here,” Wanda whined, pulling Y/N’s arm. “We already have to deal with them tonight at the party. Father wouldn’t let me not invite them.”

“Don’t be rude, Wanda,” Y/N chastised her, pulling her arm out of her grasp. “Mr. Strange and Mr. Barnes are not the ogres you and everyone else try to make them out to be.”

“Not ogres,” Wanda said, eyeing the shop. “Wizards.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Healers. Pharmacists. There’s no such thing as wizards, don’t be ridiculous.”

Wanda shook her head and Y/N huffed. “I’m going to get ready for the party,” Wanda said, turning away. “See you tonight!”

Y/N gave her an unimpressed look and shook her head disappointedly, turning and walking up the steps to the apothecary. Steven Strange and his adopted nephew, James “Bucky” Barnes, had moved into town a little over a year ago, setting up shop along the main street selling their remedies, medicines, and hygiene products. There were plenty of rumors swirling among the locals about the pair, but the people collectively needed their tinctures and remedies, so they begrudgingly shopped at the apothecary. Y/N personally loved it. It was a quaint shop, filled with bottles of all different shapes, sizes and multicolored liquids and herbs lining the shelves and counters.

As she entered the shop she took her gloves off and ran her hands through the large bowl of stones that was placed next to the door then scooped some of the smoke rising from incense burning next to the bowl and made a washing motion over her head with it, a ritual that Mr. Strange had taught her when she first visited, supposedly meant to offer an energetic peace offering. She wasn’t a particularly religious or spiritual person, but thought it a kind and respectful gesture.

“Ah, my favorite customer,” Mr. Strange’s voice rang out from behind the counter opposite the door.

Y/N turned to him and smiled. “Mr. Strange,” she greeted him.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he smiled back. “What can I do for you today?”

She approached the counter, quickly glancing around the shop. “I’m all out of the lavender and lemon balm you suggested,” she said. “I’ve grown quite accustomed to it and haven’t had a good night’s sleep since I ran out a few days ago.”

“Ha, they are quite calming,” Mr. Strange chuckled. He stooped down to look under the counter then frowned. “Oh, I’m out here…one second,” he said and turned to the door in the corner that led to the back area of the shop. “Bucky!”

There was a loud grunt and clattering from beyond the door, then grumbling as heavy footsteps headed toward the front. Y/N’s heart fluttered and she tried to calm herself so her blush wouldn’t be so obvious. The door opened and Bucky walked through, freezing momentarily when he saw Y/N but quickly focusing back on Mr. Strange and walking toward him. If Y/N were honest with herself, a big part of the reason she liked to come to the apothecary was because of Bucky. He wasn’t particularly well mannered, a bit rough around the edges, but he was one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen in her life, and was very talented in creating the concoctions and tinctures that were best sellers in the shop.

“Yes?” he asked gruffly.

“Could you fetch some more of the lavender lemon balm for Miss Y/L/N?” Mr. Strange asked.

Bucky glanced at her again and Y/N gave him a small smile. His bright blue eyes were scrutinizing and analytical, and he sighed before looking back at his uncle. “Alright,” he said simply, and trudged to the back.

Mr. Strange rolled his eyes and turned to Y/N. “I apologize, as always, for my nephew’s rudeness.”

Y/N waved her hand. “It’s not a sin to not be sociable.” Mr. Strange grinned. Just then Bucky came back out from the back holding multiple jars of the lavender lemon balm in a basket and plopped it on the counter in front of her. “Thank you, Mr. Barnes,” she said quickly before he could retreat. Bucky looked at her in surprise like he did every time she addressed him directly. He blinked and nodded at her before turning and walking away quickly, shutting the door behind him.

Mr. Strange sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes and making Y/N giggle. “Again, apologies,” he groaned. “How many would you like?”

“All of them,” Y/N said.

“That will be $5,” he said, taking the balms out of his basket and putting them into hers that she set on the counter as she pulled out her money bag.

“Mr. Strange, for all these it must be more than $5,” Y/N said with narrowed eyes.

“Consider it a ‘favorite customer’ discount,” he said with a wink.

Y/N shook her head and took out the money. “You are too kind to me,” she sighed, handing it over to him. “I will see you both at the Maximoffs party tonight?”

“Definitely,” Mr. Strange nodded. “You will save me a dance, won’t you?”

Y/N laughed as she put her gloves back on and situated her basket in her grip. “Most definitely,” she said as she turned and walked to the door. “Thank you, Mr. Strange,” she said as she opened the door and left.

“Anytime my dear!”

She waved as she walked down the steps and through main street back towards her home. She hoped that Bucky would actually show up tonight, unlike all the other parties he refused to attend. Maybe Mr. Strange would be able to convince him this time. Maybe she could convince him to dance with her? She snuggled further into her coat as the winter chill whipped around her, just in time for a Yuletide ball.

***

Y/N walked into Wanda’s home later that night accompanied by her guardian and family friend, Bruce Banner, an elderly man who was gracious enough to take her in when her parents passed. She had needed someone she could trust to not take advantage of her inheritance and also let her live her life without pressuring her to marry all the time. Bruce was quiet and progressive, encouraging her to go to university and travel. “It’s your money, do with it what you wish,” he had said. He was happy to just be her companion to parties and stay out of her way.

He helped her out of her fur coat and hung it up with the rest of the attendees' coats and hats by the door, smiling as she adjusted her dress and tapped off the snow from her shoes. “You’re a vision in red, my darling,” he complimented her, holding his arm out to her.

“Charmer,” Y/N smiled back at him. She had gone full holiday for her outfit, wearing a deep but vibrant red tartan dress with lace edges along each ruffle layer, and the long puffy sleeves sitting just off her shoulders. Her hair was mostly tied back by the ribbon she had bought that day as well as ruby pins and sprigs of holly with red berries to complement the dress, some curls meticulously pulled out from the binding that brushed against her shoulders and framed her face. Her gold and pearl earrings complemented the gold thin chain inlaid with small pearls at her neck that nestled on her sternum.

“You’ll surely be quite busy dancing tonight,” Bruce continued, leading her through the house to the dance hall. “These men don’t stand a chance against your beauty.”

“Please Bruce, you flatter me too much,” Y/N giggled as they entered the dance hall near the back of the house.

“Mr. Banner and Miss Y/L/N!” a butler called their names loudly as they stepped through the doorway.

Wanda’s excited squeal echoed through the hall as she hurried through the crowd of people that turned to look at them. “You made it!” she said, gripping Y/N’s free hand and giving a quick head bow to Bruce. “I’m going to steal her from you Mr. Banner.”

“I would expect nothing less,” he laughed, pulling Y/N’s arm from around his arm and kissing her knuckles before gesturing for her to go ahead. Y/N smiled at him then followed Wanda through the crowd towards the opposite side of the hall. They stopped in front of Wanda’s parents.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N,” her father greeted her with a wide smile. “How wonderful for you and Mr. Banner to join us.”

“Thank you for the invitation,” Y/N said, giving him a head bow. “I wouldn’t miss a Maximoff party.”

The clearing of a throat made her look to the side to find Pietro, Wanda’s brother, looking at her angrily. Y/N’s lips tightened. She and Pietro had been courting a year and a half before, and it had fallen apart when his jealousy got the better of him and he publicly embarrassed her at another party. It was unfortunate that he was related to Wanda, otherwise she would wish to never see him again.

“Mr. Maximoff,” she greeted him with a slight head bow.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he huffed, barely nodding his head back.

Wanda rolled her eyes and pulled her away to a group of women in a corner all talking to each other. They were each pulled away as the music started to dance with the men in town. The dance hall quickly became loud and even more crowded, and after another fast dance Y/N quickly retreated to the refreshment table, drinking the water available as she fanned herself.

“Miss Y/L/N!”

She turned to see Mr. Strange approaching her. “Mr. Strange! You made it!” she smiled, walking over to him.

“I’m here to claim that dance,” he said, looking her over. “You are breathtaking.”

“Oh please,” Y/N blushed. “You’re too kind.” He outstretched his hand and she happily took it.

“Shall we?” he asked as a new song started.

“We shall,” she giggled as he led her to the dance floor. They spoke candidly as they danced, and she enjoyed herself more than she had with any of the others that night. As the song came to an end Mr. Strange guided her to a corner of the room and bowed to her when it was over before turning her around. She gasped when she came face to face with Bucky, who looked just as surprised as she did.

“There you are, nephew,” Mr. Strange said. “I insist you give him his first dance, Miss Y/L/N,” he said emphatically.

Y/N’s eyes widened as her gaze snapped between the two of them. Bucky frowned at Mr. Strange, his jaw ticking in annoyance. “Oh, um, of course only if Mr. Barnes would like to–”

“Fine,” Bucky grunted, like he was accepting a dare. He sighed before looking at her. He held out his hand begrudgingly as the new song started. It was a much slower song, and Y/N’s heart raced as she slowly took his hand, marveling at just how small her hand looked in his. He led her to the dance floor, accompanied by a flurry of whispers and curious eyes watching them together.

Once they reached the middle of the dance floor he twirled her around to face him and pulled her toward him, his left hand holding her waist while his right hand cradled her left. Y/N was closer to him than she ever had been before, and she couldn’t seem to calm herself enough to stop the jittery feeling that was making her fingers shake as her left hand gripped his bicep. He was holding her closer to himself than was considered proper or normal for public dancing, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“You look very nice,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning the people around them as he led her through the steps.

Y/N smiled up at him. “Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself,” she complimented him back. If she wasn’t mistaken she thought she saw him blush. “It’s good to see you at a party,” she continued, hoping to keep the conversation going.

Bucky’s eyes met hers, analyzing her once again. “I don’t like parties,” he said matter-of-factly. “Too loud. Too many people.”

“I can understand that,” Y/N nodded. The silence stretched between them for a minute, and she tried desperately to find something else to say. “Out of all the things you and your uncle make, what is your favorite thing in the shop?”

Bucky’s eyes softened, his lips twitching into an almost smile in amusement. “I can’t tell you,” he said.

Y/N frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s a secret…recipe,” he said with a small smirk. Y/N smiled widely at his tease. “Let me guess, your favorite is the lavender lemon balms?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

Y/N arched an eyebrow at him. “Those are a close second,” she replied.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised in question. “Then what’s the first?”

She smirked back at him. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”

Bucky’s head tilted at her, his gaze analytical once again. The song was reaching its end and he guided her through the last steps until they separated just enough to bow to each other before staring at each other. He opened his mouth as if to say something but was suddenly pushed roughly from behind, stumbling forward into her. Y/N caught him with a gasp before he could fully fall, his arms wrapped around her waist and his face almost nuzzling into her bosom. Her head snapped up to see who pushed him, and found Pietro glaring at them both.

“Pietro!” Wanda scolded him, pushing through the crowd that was forming around them. “What is wrong with you?” She turned to Y/N and Bucky. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky quickly pulled himself up, his face looking flushed with anger and embarrassment. He whirled around to glare back at Pietro. Y/N quickly stepped between them, facing Pietro. “You embarrass me again, Pietro,” she hissed at him. “Have you no shame?”

Pietro looked wounded at her reprimand and audibly gulped as he looked around at the people around them. Mr. Maximoff pushed through the crowd as well and glared at Pietro before facing Bucky. “I’m sorry Mr. Barnes.” Mr. Strange pushed through until he gripped Bucky’s shoulder. “Mr. Strange,” Mr. Maximoff nodded at him. “I’m very sorry for my son’s impropriety. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

“It’s quite alright,” Mr. Strange said with a guarded smile, subtly pulling Bucky back. “Lovers scorned and what not.”

Y/N hung her head and sighed in embarrassment. Mr. Maximoff gave Mr. Strange a grateful smile and turned to the crowd. “Nothing to see here, carry on maestro!”

The conductor of the small concerto in the corner turned back to the musicians and quickly started another song to distract everyone. Mr. Maximoff gave Y/N a quick smile before turning on Pietro and roughly pulling him away to talk to him. Mr. Strange pulled Bucky away toward the dance hall entrance door and Y/N was about to follow them when Wanda intercepted her. “I’m sorry dearest,” she said, squeezing Y/N’s hands. “He’s just an idiot.”

“Yes,” Y/N agreed, trying to pull away. “Please, I must go–”

“Why?” Wanda asked.

“I’ll be right back,” Y/N quickly smiled at her then pulled away and headed for the door. She walked down the hallway towards the front door and stopped when she heard raised voices around the corner near the front door.

“Imbeciles. You drag me across the east coast to this place and we land in just another simple, boring, moronic town. We’re wasting our time here trying to fit in–”

“Bucky please,” Mr. Strange’s voice interrupted. “I told you Concord was a good place to lay low and start over. We can practice in peace here–”

“No we can’t!” Bucky grunted. “Hiding in the woods or the back room of the shop? In the dead of night? These people are no better than the last ones.” There was a rustling of fabric and then the door being wrenched open. “I’ll see you at home,” he huffed before slamming the door.

Y/N scurried behind an alcove in the wall as she heard Mr. Strange’s heavy sigh and footsteps coming back around the corner. Once he passed her and headed back to the dance hall she quickly went to the front door. She grabbed her coat and shrugged it on before following Bucky out the door. She wasn’t sure what it was that he and Mr. Strange were talking about, but felt the need to make sure he was okay.

She squinted into the night and saw his moonlit outline moving toward the treeline just beyond the Maximoff property. She jogged off the porch and followed him, picking up her skirts so she wouldn’t trip in the snow. When she broke the treeline she found a small trail of his footprints, the snow seemingly glowing in the moonlight peaking through the branches above. She did her best to keep up, her skirts getting heavier as they soaked through from the snow, her dress boots not helping to trek through the icy undergrowth. She was panting as she leaned against a tree to catch her breath, then saw something strange from the corner of her eye. Her head whipped around to her left, squinting through the trees. A strange light was flitting through the dead leaves that still clung to some of the trees.

Y/N slowly trudged over toward the light, her breath coming out in large puffs in the freezing air. She stayed hidden by the trees until she could peek through the branches that were tightly knit in the area. Bucky was just beyond the trees in a small clearing, kneeling on one knee in the snow as he looked up at the moon. He was mumbling something she couldn’t hear or understand, then stood and held up his left hand. His fingers clenched into a fist, then as he flexed them back out a light appeared in his palm. Y/N’s eyes widened and she silently gasped, her hand covering her mouth. Magic? The light in his palm traveled between his fingers, almost bouncing playfully around his hand. He lifted his right hand and did a strange motion with his fingers and the light expanded into an image. Y/N squinted to see it was a glowing fairy. He released the fairy from his hold and it started to fly and dance around the clearing. Y/N’s mouth was agape in shock as he continued to create more images of light. A fox, a deer, more fairies, sprites and other mythical creatures. His voice was low as he murmured the words she couldn’t understand, then he started humming a tune she didn’t recognize.

The light magic figures all danced, trotted, flew and ran around the clearing, all of them in perfect tandem with each other. Bucky looked around at them all and smiled. Y/N was caught off guard by his smile, having never seen it before. It was bright and blinding, and it brought a smile to her face to see it. This made him happy. The magic was his happiness.

Some of the light fairies suddenly flew through the trees and approached her. Y/N gasped and froze, watching them fly around her. They seemed sentient in a way as they scrutinized her, getting incredibly close to her face and squinting their tiny eyes. One of the sprites hovered close and kissed her cheek. Y/N giggled quietly, the kiss feeling like a snowflake falling on her skin. She turned and looked at the sprite with a smile, holding her finger out. The sprite smiled back and sat on her finger, gazing up at her. The other little fairies and sprites that surrounded her flitted around in excitement. Y/N couldn’t quite believe her eyes.

She was so distracted that the sudden clasp of a hand at her shoulder made her yelp. The magic all disappeared in an instant and she whirled around to look up and see Bucky glaring down at her. Y/N panicked, ripped herself out of his grasp and ran back the way she came.

“Y/N, wait!”

She heard his heavy footsteps crunch the snow as she tried to find her way back to the house. The moonlight was playing tricks on her as she got lost in the trees, the trail disappearing. Y/N’s skirts were heavy, weighing her down as she tripped and fell in the snow repeatedly trying to find her way out. Bucky wasn’t far behind her, his own panting breaths and grunts echoing in the woods around them. She wasn’t sure what he wanted or had planned for her since she caught him doing magic. It didn’t seem like dark magic, but she didn’t know what he was capable of. Suddenly her ankle twisted on a root that was hidden in the snow and she tumbled down a small hill. She tried to catch herself but the ice was slippery, and she heard Bucky’s echoing call to her as she hit her head on something hard and blacked out.

#marvel #bucky barnes #smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #series fanfic #chapter 1 #magic #christmas #yule #yuletide

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justcallmefox89 · 1 year ago

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Gale and the Gith: Chapter Seven - Eavesdropping

X'aa'nath starts to come out of his shell and Gale gets jealous.

“Whatcha starin’ at?”

“Ack!” Startled by Karlach’s voice so close to his ear Gale flails about, nearly falling face first into the campfire.

“Easy there!” Karlach catches the back of his tunic and easily hauls him back into a sitting position. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Gale mutters, waving off her apology. “I was distracted.”

“By what?” Karlach follows his line of sight, quickly answering her own question. “Oh! Are you spying on Soldier and Astarion? I want to spy too!”

“Shh!” Gale looks around frantically, making sure no one have overheard. “And I am not spying. I am… satiating my appetite for information.”

“Uh-huh.” The tiefling grins at him, unconvinced. “Curious about Astarion and X’aa’nath’s nightly little gossip sessions?”

Several days ago the group discovered that X’aa’nath is fluent in Elvish. Ever since this revelation he and Astarion have become even closer, sharing secret conversations and giggling at each other’s private jokes and comments.

On one hand, Gale is thrilled that the two most stand-offish members of their party have found a someone to trust and confide in. On the other, less charitable hand, he’s more than slightly aggrieved that X’aa’nath chose Astarion over him. Since the confrontation with Wyll nearly two weeks ago the sorcerer has been even more closed off, keeping close to Lae’zel and Astarion and trying his best to avoid Gale all together.

Gale shrugs in response to Karlach’s question, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Aren’t you?”

“Not as much as you,” she replies, smirking. “But if you really want to know… Hey, Shadowheart!”

The wizard glares at her as she excitedly waves the cleric over.

“Something the matter?” Shadowheart asks, settling down on the ground next to them.

“We’re spying on Astarion and X’aa’nath and we need your help.”

“We are not spying!” Gale insists. “We’re just… curious.”

The cleric gives him the same unimpressed look Karlach had earlier. “And why are you so curious, Gale?”

He flushes under the women’s inquiring gazes, toying with the earring in his left ear as he considers how to respond. His interest in the gith sorcerer has crossed over from purely academic to something entirely more… intimate. How many nights has he lain awake, alone in his tent, fantasizing about taking X’aa’nath in his arms and… Gale shakes away the thought, shifting and adjusting himself to make sure his growing desire isn’t obvious to the two sitting next to him.

“Never mind,” Shadowheart says, smirking at him knowingly. “I think I understand now.”

“So what are they saying?” Karlach urges impatiently, batting her eyelashes at Shadowheart.

“Hush, you,” the half-elf replies, fighting back a smile and blushing prettily.

Perhaps I’m not the only one harboring illicit feelings for a fellow party member.

Astarion’s throaty laughter draws Gale out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see the vampire smiling and shaking his head at something X’aa’nath has said, gently poking the younger man with a hairbrush before returning his attention to the gith’s waist-length hair. X’aa’nath smiles shyly, obviously pleased by Astarion’s reaction, and closes his eyes in pleasure as the rogue works the brush through his hair.

“By Ahghairon’s lost nose, now they’re brushing each other’s hair?” Gale groans in irritation, a flash of jealousy overtaking him.

“Come on, Shadowheart, put the man out of his misery,” Karlach says, glancing at him sympathetically. “What are they talking about?”

Shadowheart motions for them to be quiet, tilting her head to the side and straining to hear over the noises of the camp. She wrinkles her nose in concentration, frowning a bit as she catches a stray word or two. She eventually gives up, shrugging slightly.

“So?” Gale prods her, trying to rein in his impatience.

“They’re just talking about Rolan.”

“Rolan? The apprentice wizard, Rolan?” Karlach asks, grimacing as if she’s bitten into something sour.

Gale frowns in solidarity. His fellow wizard has a rather prickly personality, and hadn’t really endeared himself to the members of their group with his foul attitude.

“What are they saying about him?”

“Astarion is just teasing him. Apparently X’aa’nath spoke to Rolan alone today. And not to threaten him.”

The trio share a look. For X’aa’nath to voluntarily seek out an outsider for conversation is unheard of.

But why wouldn’t he? Rolan is young, obviously talented- judging by his apprenticeship with Lorroakan, and attractive.

Something sour churns in Gale’s stomach, and his earlier jealousy returns, flaring stronger than before. He stands, forcing a smile. “I think it’s time I turn in for the evening. Thank you Shadowheart, for indulging us in this little endeavor.

Karlach sighs, watching Gale’s retreating figure as he slips inside his tent. “Damn,” she murmurs sadly.

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i-choose-you-cyndaquil · 2 days ago

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AU where The Wizard is just a politician and nothing nefarious is happening

Frexspar, due to his shame and embarrassment over Elphaba's verdigris, sends her abroad for study and education. The less he has to see her, the better; and what a convenient excuse to give the Munchkinlanders when they ask about her absence.

Despite her absence, Elphaba still tries to be present in Nessarose's life. In a way, the distance made their bond stronger since they didn't have to go through their entire childhood experiencing scorn and fear from Elphaba's appearance (though visits during break still drew attention to the pair, however, it was less fear and more invasive curiosity since they've not witnessed a magical outburst in years.)

Yet some lingering jealousy still puts a strain on their relationship. Nessarose is jealous of the perceived freedom her sister has while she's under the overbearing, and often oppressive, attention of their father who treats her like a fragile doll. Elphaba is jealous of the attention Nessarose receives from their father, correctly deducing that she's been sequestered away not out of love or care but like a shameful secret Frexspar couldn't bear to look at longer than necessary.

It's an argument they've had repeatedly over the years; Elphaba wants to be loved like a daughter instead of treated like a stranger in her own home while Nessarose wants to be seen as the independent person she is instead of someone limited by their disability.

When the time comes for Nessarose to go to Shiz, both she and Elphaba are adamant that the older girl will be in attendance despite their Father's insistence against it.

All is well and fine for the girls, despite the lingering stares and whispers from the other students until a pink-dressed, blonde whirlwind arrives.

Nessarose is entirely unimpressed with someone screaming at the sight of her sister, dramatic much? Meanwhile, Elphaba is dryly amused at the reaction she received, something she's not experienced since her childhood.

After a subtle glance at her younger sister, Elphaba begins the monologue they both came up with in their youth. Except, Galinda is no longer listening to what she's saying. She's too captivated by the accent the older girl has. The smoothness of her voice and the grace she carried herself with were too distracting for her to even care about what was being said. Unfortunately, her stupor lasted long enough to ignore the sudden and unnecessary defense her two new friends provided, opting instead to stare unblinkingly at the green woman before her, unaware of the youngest Thropp's narrowed glare.

#wicked #gelphie #nessarose thropp #started as a way to give Elphaba an accent but then a little baby plot developed

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ladyzirkonia · 1 year ago

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Summary: How the Ex-Imperial ended up here? He didn't know but at least he's questioning his life choices (finally)

Warnings: Nothing just some silliness and Rampart kind of still being Rampart

Word Count: around 800

author's note: Hello my friends it's about time for some Rampart shenaningans. (filling the gap of Rampart fics for me on this site) Completely self-indulgent. Inspired by the travel-biscuits conversation of the Ex-Imperials in Mando (what I absolutely love) and this post about Imperial code cylinders. Thank you @smw-on-kamino for proof-reading. 🖤

Rampart walked around the base with his arms behind his back, a habit he had not given up to this day. Most people here seemed to be avoiding him, but he didn't seem to care. He took in everything around him until he spotted a figure in the distance that made him want to turn around. That incredibly annoying loud voice that gave him a headache even from a distance, and that incredibly ugly orange jumpsuit tied lazily around her waist - ugh, how could he not have seen that from miles away? But before he had the chance to turn around, she had already spotted him and was waving at him like a lunatic - stars, this woman had been a pain in the ass since the day they first met.

But suddenly he recognised what she was playing with: the small, thin object that she was playfully tossing in the air and catching, which he knows all too well. He looked at her in disbelief for a moment, before quickly walking towards her and trying to catch it while it was in the air. But she was quicker and snatched it from him in mid-air with a big grin on her face.

"What the hell are you doing? Do you even know what this is?" he spits at her almost furiously. His annoyed expression made her grin even wider.

"I don't know... it looks like a pen?" she replied sarcastically.

Rampart couldn’t believe what he was hearing and scoffed in his arrogant way. "I shouldn't be surprised at this level of incompetence. I am surrounded by a bunch of dim-witted Gamorreans. It's a miracle the Empire hasn't wiped you out by now."

She laughed unimpressed and continued to play with the small object in her hand as she looked at him. "Don't be a mean girl, Rampart! Share your unparalleled competence and knowledge with me."

Rampart grumbled, but at the same time he couldn't help explaining in an arrogant and self confident tone. "This is an Imperial code cylinder. All officers of the Imperial Navy are equipped with at least one of them. They serve to prove their rank and identity at certain checkpoints."

He looked at her, self-satisfied - ah, lecturing people, how he had missed that.

She looked at the small object in her hand.

"Oh wow, so it's actually valuable?"

"I beg your pardon?! Valuable?" He seemed barely able to comprehend the extent of her naivety and incompetence.

"This is a complete waste in your hands, give it to me!" he replied in his usual commanding tone.

"Oh, absolutely not. Have you forgotten that I outrank you?" she replied teasingly.

He laughed in disbelief and gave her that typical arrogant Rampart smile.

"You? Since when?" he asked in a tone that sounded like the most absurd thing he had ever heard. He knew she was just trying to get under his skin as usual, she had been like that since they first met and it was driving him crazy. So he tried to look completely unfazed by her words.

"Oh, since today. You can call me Captain now, Wizard, huh?" she said with that damn grin on her face.

Rampart just shook his head slightly, doubting his decisions once again, how could he end up in the middle of all these madmen?

"That's not going to happen," he said mockingly.

But she just grinned again and started to take something out of her pocket. It was a small packet of red Imperial travel biscuits, and she held it out in front of his nose. Rampart immediately recognised what she was holding and stared at her in disbelief.

What... where in the seven hells of Corellia did you get this?'' he asked her in disbelief, but couldn't help but be impressed.

''You know, I have my ways. I thought you might like it,'' she replied, this time with a genuine smile.

Rampart just laughed somewhat snarky and crossed his arms. You don't really think you can bribe me with a few biscuits, do you? Ridiculous.''

She just shrugged unimpressed as she slowly removed her hand from his face. ''Then I'll just keep them, I've always wondered what they taste like anyway.''

He grumbled, and before she could pull her hand back, he grabbed the small package.

"The yellow ones are better," he muttered, annoyed as he put the small package in his pocket.

She laughed in response and then, without warning, hooked her arm through his before he could get out of the way. He froze for a moment; this shameless woman irritated him immensely. He tried to cover his irritation and shock at her closeness with another snarky comment.

"You are kriffing annoying and a pain in my ass, Captain," he said sarcastically, trying to get rid of her. It was a sight to behold as the former Imperial tried to shake off the relatively small but stubborn person.

"As intended. Be nice and I'll get you the yellow ones next time," she teased, finally pulling him along with her.

#the bad batch #rebel era #star wars fanfiction #edmon rampart #admiral rampart #tbb rampart #rampart fanfiction #star wars

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tollingreminiscentbells · 1 year ago

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RoCS Side Story: Simon and Harry

Since people sometimes ask about Simon and backstory and things of that nature, I thought I'd deliver with a little bit of side content! Specifically, Simon and baby Harry meeting for the first time. A little shy of 1,000 words below the cut, if Harry's early childhood, and Simon's take on how to talk to toddlers, is of interest to you.

“I’m here to see the boy.”

The older woman currently responsible for the care of Harry Potter looks at Simon with extreme skepticism. Simon doesn’t blame her—he wouldn’t trust him, either.

“Harry,” he amends, because he knows he wouldn’t appreciate being referred to as the boy and, even if Harry isn’t present for this conversation, it’s the principle of the fucking thing.

She still looks profoundly unimpressed, but nods. The Dark Lord must have let her know Simon was coming, though he can’t imagine she was fully prepared to be confronted with a skinny twenty-year-old who hasn’t slept in almost thirty hours.

In hindsight, that might have been an error in judgment on his part.

“This way,” she says stiffly.

“Thank you,” he says, following her down the hall and up a flight of stairs.

Their destination turns out to be a small nursery on the second floor, just off the landing. And there, sitting in a crib under the window, playing with a stuffed dog, is the child the Dark Lord inexplicably thinks Simon is fit to raise.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” the woman tells him. She leaves the door open on her way out.

Simon watches her go, then turns his attention to Harry, who is watching him with fascination, the stuffed toy forgotten. They stare at each other for a moment and then Simon says, “Hello.”

Harry waves. “Hi.”

“Oh.” Simon blinks at him. “You can talk. Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

Harry giggles and says again, “Hi.”

“Albeit with a somewhat limited vocabulary.” Simon crosses the room and folds his arms against the side of the crib. “I suppose you are only . . . how old are you?” He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I’m asking you, you’re a baby. Or are you a toddler? Is there a discrete point where one becomes the other?”

Every word that leaves his mouth is just more evidence that he has no business even being here. Of all the wizards in Britain, Simon Glass might be the last one anyone should entrust a small child to, particularly a small child as important as Harry Potter.

Said small child is stretching his arms in Simon’s direction. “Up.”

“You want out of the cage? I don’t blame you.”

He’s never picked up a toddler before, but the principle seems straightforward enough and he reaches down to wrap his arms around Harry and lift him up and over the side of the crib. He’s heavier than he looks, but Simon doesn’t drop him and instead gets them both situated on the floor, so he’ll consider that a success.

The bar is so low he’d have to start tunneling to go any lower.

And then they’re back to staring at each other because of course they are. Simon has never felt more out of his depth in his life. This is worse than the day he got arrested.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits quietly.

Harry tilts his head curiously, but Simon’s uncertainty might be affecting him because his face is starting to screw up like he’s going to cry. In a tiny, plaintive voice, he says, “Mama?”

Oh. Oh no.

But Harry really looks like he’s going to cry now, so Simon does the only thing he can think of: he starts talking again. “She’s . . . she’s not coming back, I'm sorry. Neither of them are.” He tries to smile and is very certain he fails. “My mother died a long time ago—I don’t remember her very well. I wish it had been the other way around and my father died first, but no one asked me.” He reaches out and brushes messy hair off Harry’s forehead. “No one asked you, either, did they? I suppose we’re alike that way.”

The talking strategy seems to be working because Harry is once more looking at Simon with some degree of interest, the tears held at bay. He makes a noise that isn’t quite a word, but Simon has spent most of his life not being understood by the people around him, so he nods. “Just so.”

Harry smiles at him, which makes him quite possibly the only person who has ever found Simon remotely amusing, and Simon sighs. “I’m not cut out to be a parent,” he tells him flatly. “The house is horrible and I can’t cook. I don’t know anything about children. And there’s no one else, so you won’t even be getting a proper family out of the deal. This is a terrible idea and I don’t know why anyone would even entertain it.”

Harry holds out a hand and Simon takes it, watching as pudgy fingers curl around his index and middle fingers. It’s kind of sweet, actually. Reaching out to Simon like he’s in any way fit to be here, like Simon is someone he might conceivably be comforted by.

Perhaps the Dark Lord knew Simon better than he knows himself because there really isn't a decision to be made, is there? It was made the moment Simon walked in the door. Or maybe even sooner. The moment he agreed to meet Harry Potter at all.

Harry is alone in the world now, but Simon has an idea of what that’s like and maybe . . . maybe that will be enough to get them started. A foundation he can build on, if he manages to keep them both alive long enough to try.

Looking into Harry's bright green eyes, he finds that he wants to try.

“I suppose I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I?” When Harry smiles again, he smiles back. “I’m Simon.”

#revolution of configured stars #rocs #my fics

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liskadeart · 1 year ago

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Sparring Match [Gale x Named!Tav]

This picture lives in my head rent free so I had to write a short snippet of my Dragonborn Wild Mage Tav, Vaccistar, sparring with Gale for the first time. I referenced this video for the fight. Anyways enjoy! [I've never posted fic to tumblr so idk if I'm doing this right? feel free to leave me tips] Wordcount: 3,152

There was a hollow clunk as the plain wooden quarterstaff hit the ground next to Gale. He lazily glanced over from his book and considered it before looking up to see who had tossed the weapon in his direction.

Vaccistar stood in front of him, her own quarterstaff swung across her neck and her large dragonborn arms hanging off of it. The late afternoon sun gave her bronze and sepia toned scales a warm glow, which were bare for the world in her camp clothes of an intricate, scaled bralette and brown leather pants. She leaned forward, her sharp bright blue eyes glowing slightly in the shade of Gale's tent.

“Fancy a spar, wizard?” a small toothy and mischievous smile growing. It had only been close to a tenday since she had pulled Gale out from his unstable portal, but from the moment they first spoke, a ‘friendly’ rivalry had blossomed between the two of them. A rivalry borne of conjecture and dissension on principles and applicability of magic. A rivalry between a wizard and a wild mage.

Gale slowly placed the division ribbon in between the pages he was on before closing it.

“I suppose I could indulge you. Though I warn, it has been sometime since I’ve sparred with someone. I may not be up to scratch,” he picked up the quarterstaff and used it to help him up off the ground.

“Only if your knees will allow you,” Vaccistar teased. He narrowed his eyes at her. She had been relentless since she discovered he was ten years her elder. He supposed it was technically more, as Vaccistar was 21 summers old, but as Dragonborns aged faster than humans, she was closer to 25 physically and mentally.

“Sparring will be easier on my knees than sneaking around goblins,” he gave her a tight smile. Vaccistar shrugged with a smug look on her face. She turned playfully on her heel swinging her foot out and led them to the open spot near the center of camp. Their companions took notice immediately.

“Are you guys going to fight!?” Karlach said excitedly.

“We are going to spar,” Gale corrected. The others came around to form a half circle around them.

“Good!” Lae’zel crossed her arms. “It’s about time our mages practice some practical combat,”

Vaccistar rolled her eyes as she swung her quarterstaff from her shoulders. She spun it in her hand but nearly dropped it as Gale grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

She recovered her staff awkwardly and held it with both hands in front of her as if it could hide her bashfulness. She felt a heat deep in her core sending a tingling up her spine, across her shoulders and wrapping around her cheeks as she watched Gale.

He rolled his thick shoulders back, stretching his neck, clearly unaware, or atleast unphased by everyone gawking at his physique. His chest was robust with muscle and lightly covered with dark hair that trailed down his sculpted stomach to the waistband of his pants. The muscles of his brawny arms shifted like waves on still water under his tan skin. As he spun the quarterstaff in his hand and around his body, Vaccistar could see large veins trailing down his forearms to his large hands that expertly handled the wooden weapon with ease.

“Why is Gale so ripped?” Astarion said in a hushed tone. Vaccistar startled slightly, his voice pulling her out of her lewd daydreams.

“I could probably do my laundry on his abs…” Karach said matching Astarion’s volume. Shadowheart nodded silently, her brows furrowed with concern.

“It is a pleasant surprise that the wizard seems to be far more built for combat than I had originally thought,” Lae’zel said unimpressed and not bothering with lowering her voice. Gale gave them all a slight side eye and small smile. He continued to practice his stances while pretending he couldn’t hear them.

Astartion put his hand on Vaccistar’s shoulder, a mischievous glint in his red eyes. “Listen, darling, you can’t let his sculpted body distract you. And you must, under no circumstances, look at how tight his pants are,”

As if on cue, the dragonborn’s eye’s dropped down to his pants. One probably wouldn’t have noticed it if attention wasn’t brought to it; but now that Vaccistar’s attention had been directed to it she wasn’t able to unsee the unmistakable silhouette of his length against the brown leather that lined the inside of his casual purple pants. She quickly turned her head away and scrunched up her snout at Astarion disapprovingly. Astartion merely shrugged, seeming quite pleased with himself.

“I did say, ‘Don’t look,’”

“Wyll!” Gale called out to the warlock who was quietly contemplating Gale’s body alongside everyone else. “Would you be so kind as to officiate our match?”

“With pleasure!” Wyll responded enthusiastically and moved to take a spot where he could easily see the two of them.

“My money’s on Gale!” Shadowheart declared. “Agreed,” Lae’zel nodded and the two moved to stand towards his side.

“What?” Vaccistar turned to them in mock offense. “Are you taking his side because I turned you both down?”

“No…?” Shadowheart averted her gaze with a slight blush on her face.

“Yes,” Lae,zel stated bluntly, a defiant look in her eyes.

Karlach slapped her hand onto Vaccistar’s shoulder, nearly throwing her off balance. “Not to worry, soldier! Astarion and I will be rooting for ya!”

“Don’t involve me,” Astarion narrowed his eyes at them.

“Are we ready to begin, then? First to three points wins,” Wyll said, taking his position between the two of them.

“I am, but I don’t know if Vaccistar is done with her chinwag just yet,” Gale said with a knowing look and a taunting eye.

Vaccistar frowned, her blush deepening the color of her scales. With a determined huff she swung her quarterstaff and took a stance.

“I’m ready,” she said, as Gale matched her starting stance.

“Very well then,” Wyll placed a hand between them. “BEGIN!” he called out, quickly dropping his hand.

No sooner had the words left his lips, Vaccistar twirled and swung her staff out low. With a resounding CLACK Gale blocked the blow and swept her staff up and above him, directing it to the ground on the other side of him. She rebounded and moved her staff back up which Gale blocked with quick and loud wooden CLACKS. He knocked her staff to the side and went to swing the back end at her. She lowered herself dodging the blow, as the staff wooshed above her head, nearly hitting her arcuate crown of horns. She took the opening to thrust her staff forward, which he dodged by stepping to the side. A line of sweat formed at his forehead realizing the height of her aim was just below his waist.

Vaccistar thrusted her staff forward again, which Gale tapped off to the side and then thrust his own staff down at her legs. She moved her staff back to block him and swept his weapon up and around her moving forward to push him back. Gale stepped with the motion, his staff freeing up as she spun and swung her weapon around to hit him. He spun in the opposite direction and ducking the blow using the opportunity to swing his staff down to the back of her legs. Vaccistar froze as she felt him tap her legs gently.

“POINT TO GALE!” Wyll cried out to Shadowheart’s clapping and cheering.

“Don’t give up, soldier!” Karlach called out to Vaccistar. She exhaled, flaring her nostrils in embarrassment.

‘I can’t lose to a damns wizard!’ she thought to herself and she retook her position at the other end of their mini battlefield. Gale smirked, tapping his staff on the ground as he took his position.

“Impressive, but far too offensive. Remember, our quarterstaffs are meant to defend us in a bind. Our spells are our offense,” he said.

“Very well, you take the offensive this time,” Vaccistar scoffed.

“Ready?” Wyll called out as they got into their starting stances. “BEGIN!”

Gale arced his staff above his head as he moved forward then down where Vaccistar’s staff met his. CLACK. With a quick movement he swung it back around to hit the otherside, where she once again blocked. CLACK. She flipped his staff up and then moved forward with a thrust which Gale dodge with a large step back. She swung it up where he met her staff again, stepping farther back and encouraging her to chase him. She pushed his staff aside and went for another thrust which Gale dodge with another side step. As she recovered he took the bottom of his staff and went to thrust forward which Vaccistar barely dodged by dipping her head down. The both of them recovered and in a movement that could have been choreographed as they both spun around and their staffs met in midair with a hollow CLACK that reverberated off the rocks around them. The crowd gave a quiet ‘Oooo.’

With quick succession Vaccistar swung her staff on either side of Gale, and with quicker movements he blocked her staff with his. He swept up her staff and pushed it to the side and went in with his own blows swinging at her midsection with both ends of his staff. She blocked his blow, and his second at her legs, and then a third above her head. She pushed his staff down to the ground. For a heartbeat Vaccistar’s eyes burned with the assurance of victory as their eyes met, then a spark of mischief went off in Gale’s eyes. He went to swing under her staff which made Vaccistar step back to dodge. She watched as he retracted his staff far too soon and realized he had faked her out by the time the back end of his staff tapped her tail gently (which blocked her backside from being the victim of his swing).

“ANOTHER POINT TO GALE,”

“My apologies, I was aiming for your lower back,” Gale said awkwardly as he stepped back, his cheeks reddening slightly.

“No need to apologize, Gale, darling! It’s a large target,” Astarion quipped from the sidelines, Vaccistar’s annoyed glare fueling his mirth.

Gale and Vaccistar retook their positions as Wyll lifted his hand. “BEGIN!” he shouted. Vaccistar went in as if she was going to swing up on Gale, but as he prepared to block she kept the swing low and went for his side. Gale quickly caught the pole in his arm and used his as leverage to push her staff out of her hands. Vaccistar’s eyes widened in surprise as he stepped back twirling both staffs at the same time, wearing a smug face that she desperately wanted to wipe off… or kiss. She pushed the thoughts aside.

“POI-” Wyll began but Gale held up one hand.

“Now hold on, I won’t let it count against her. If she can retrieve her staff from me,” He tossed hers behind him and took up a stance.

“Very well, then,” Wyll said and stepped back to let them continue.

She held up her hands ready to catch his staff as she took a few steps forward. Once she was close enough he swung low to trip her, but Vaccistar leapt up and dodged it. He quickly recovered with a twirl of his staff and went to bring it down on her. Vaccistar side stepped and twirled low around swinging her tail and catching the back of Gale's knees. He fell forward, recovering himself, and turned around to find Vaccistar’s staff coming down on him. Gale took a step back and tapped her staff back. He continued to retreat backwards as she swung her staff furiously, meeting him at every hit. He blocked one of her high hits, pushing her staff down and spinning around to hit her in the back. She stepped back to bring her staff down and blocked his hit. She swept it up and went in with a thrust which he tapped back as he took a step back. He returned in kind, taking a step forward thrusting his staff towards her. She mimicked his dodge with effectiveness. She took a large step forward with another thrust of her staff which he sidestepped. This time however, Vaccistar was too slow to recover from her last attack, and far too close to Gale to dodge anything. With a quick movement his staff met her midsection and pushed her back, knocking the wind out of her.

Vaccistar fell to the ground landing on her back, stunned.

“Vaccistar!” Gale called out as she fell. He came down to her side in a hurry. “Are you okay?” his eyes were wide and wet with worry.

“I’m fine,” She managed to respond after catching her breath.

“I misjudged how close you were going to get to me. Before I knew it, I had made contact. I am so sorry,” He helped her up as he explained. She waved her hand to dismiss it.

“It’s fine. It’s not a true sparring session unless someone gets hurt, anyways,” Vaccistar rubbed where his staff had shoved into. “Besides, what use are these scales, if they don’t protect me?” She half lied. Truthfully, as far as scute’s went, they were weak and were as flimsy as fingernails. But they certainly made it look like she was far tougher. Reality was it would probably bruise and the entire scale would turn dark.

Gale’s eyebrows knitted in continuous worry as their companions came around them.

“What a fight!” Karlach exclaimed. “You really held your own, Vaxx!”

“Well, it’s very clear that Gale has a great many years on me in experience,” Vaccistar said with a smile. Her joke did well to ease his worry that was creasing his forehead.

“He certainly does know his way around a wood staff,” Astarion mused watching the two of them catch his innuendo in embarrassed glances, averting the other’s gaze.

As the group dispersed and went back to their activities before the sparring had begun, Vaccistar picked up her quarterstaff and went straight into practicing again. Gale watched for a moment before he finally commented.

“You aren’t going to take a rest?” He crossed his arms, his biceps bulging slightly from the pose. Vaccistar looked out of the corner of her eye before doing a double take and dropping her staff. With a frustrated huff she picked it up, the tip of her tail swishing in annoyance.

“In the face of defeat, I find solace in practicing,”

“Rest and motion, unrelieved and unchecked, are equally destructive,” Gale said as he approached her. “However, if you are so adamant, then you should at least practice the right technique. If you would allow me, I could show you a thing or two,”

Vaccistar smirked. “Do my ears deceive me? The wizard wants to teach the sorcerer something? And here I thought I was incapable of such a feat,”

“Noone is incapable of learning. There were a number of Sorcerer’s at Blackstaff Academy. But magic inclination aside, there are a number of practical things I could show you, if you would indulge an old man and let him impart his wisdom,” Gale had a twinkle in his eye that tugged at the sides of Vaccistar’s lips. She pursed them to keep them from betraying her.

“I suppose I could, this once,” She teased.

“May I ask where you learned your skills from?” Gale asked her as he came to stand just behind her and to the side. A light tingling sensation crossed her skin as she felt him close.

“My mother first, then I took lessons from the guards at the local keep. And anyone who came through carrying a staff,” She said. Gale nodded in thought.

“That certainly explains your excessive offensive stance. May I?” He asked his hand just hovering over her arm. Vaccistar nodded, a warmth crossing her cheeks. He gently took her arms and with a gentle but firm touch he directed them in where he wanted them. “I also noticed that your center of gravity was a bit off. I’d say, with your tail, you could stand with your feet apart a bit… more,” he pushed his foot against her pushing them apart a bit. “And lower your center just… a tad,” his fingers graced just above her hips and gently settled her in a slight squat. “How does that feel?”

Vaccistar took a moment to come back to the conversation at hand, every where he had touched tingled oh so lightly, but felt empty at the same time. “Uhm, better actually,” she shifted her weight slightly and felt more balanced and sturdy than she had before.

“Excellent!” Gale exclaimed and began to direct her arms in various stances and blocks. He talked close to her ear as he explained every move in depth; the where, the how, the why. He was an excellent teacher, but Vaccistar found a part of her drifting off. It focused on his touches, on the way his breath felt against her skin, the way he spoke.

‘Gods, how can he be so appealing? Wizards are supposed to be power hungry arses, but why is he different? He better not awaken something in me…’ she thought as he stepped aside and encouraged her to imitate the motions he had just shown her. With a great ease she worked through the movements slowly at first, getting a feel of them. Then by the third try she was moving at full speed with great precision.

“Very good,” Gale praised her. Something about the way he said it stirred something deep in her core.

“I think that’s enough practice for today!” She said so abruptly that it made Gale raise his eyebrows in surprise. “Thank you, for the spar and the lessons,” she gave him a stiff and shallow bow. He dipped his head and torso in a graceful bow of his own.

“But of course. Sharing knowledge with one another benefits us all. If you ever need any lessons, you are welcome to find me. We can make them a bit more private, if that suits you,”

Vaccistar swore his voice took on a darker tone as he looked at her through his brows.

Vaccistar’s soul threatened to leave her body, and she knew without a doubt, the scales around her cheeks were now a darker hue with all the warmth they radiated.

“Splendid,” her voice cracked and she turned on her heel marching straight to her tarp covered sticks she called a tent.

She threw down the side of the tarp to cover the open end, ensuring no one could perceive her and plopped into her bed roll face down. With a flick of her wrist she cast silence and began screaming into her pillow.

#fanfic #fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 dragonborn #vaccistar #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 #my writing #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #other characters mentioned #wyll ravengard #karlach #astarion #shadowheart #lae'zel

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hugemilkshake · 1 year ago

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Hey Can I request a scenario where a gingerbrave, his friends, and pure vanilla cookie get save by the reader/Darkwing Duck

Plot: After GingerBrave and his friends many adventures they decided they needed a break. so they decided to visit a new city called St. Canard with pure vanilla cookie by their side (because if I remember correctly mostly everyone is a child besides chili pepper I think) but they were not expecting some members of the cookies of darkness to be there and with some members from The Fearsome Five (maybe no Negaduck but that's your choice). They tried beating them but there were too many of them to take down. They are now cornered in a alleyway thinking that they are goners but a lot of purple gas enter the alleyway then they all heard St. Canard's hero iconic introduction "I am the terror that flaps in the night"

Enjoy the milkshake! Now usually I won’t do any mixing of fandoms but this is the only exception because of the absolute whiplash I got from this because I actually like really darkwing duck 😭 so anon if your reading this I want you to know that you caused me some emotional distress (in a good way)

The terror that dashes through the night

-platonic-

The group had been traveling for the entire day, their journey had come to a halt when they found a city on an island, mist surrounded the island and by the time they got across the bridge the sun was already setting.

“I’m hungry! Your king demands you bring me some food!” Custard Cookie lll whined as Chili Pepper snapped back “Can it kid! We’re going to grab some food alight?”

The group started to make their way towards a diner that was still open. The diner was empty as the group walked in.

“So, you guys not from St. Canard aren’t ya?” The cookie behind the counter spoke to the group. Gingerbrave was the one to respond “Yeah we are new here! I’m Ginger-“ “I guessed as much, because no one, and I mean no one travels around the city looking all fancy and at this time” the cookie said while gesturing towards Pure Vanilla

“Why is that..?” Strawberry Cookie questioned. “Thieves.” The cookie responded “The crime rate is only being controlled by some doofus in a cape”

“Great. We’re going to get robbed.” “Pointy hat can you try to be optimistic?” “No.” Wizard Cookie was not to happy about this situation. You can’t blame him though, they were probably going to get robbed.

The group wanted to find a hotel since the cookie in the diner wasn’t going to give them any service. It was dark and the wind blew some trash across the vacant streets. Pure Vanilla told the younger cookies to stay by him because he had a bad feeling

“This maps not very useful…” Strawberry Cookie mumbled as she jumped at some noise. “Yeah! This map doesn’t even lead anywhere!” Custard exclaimed. Pure Vanilla had to calm them down so they wouldn’t panic soon

“It’s alright everyone, we’ll find somewhere to stay… soon I hope..” everyone wasn’t reassured by this. The group soon heard some giggling and then some shushing from the shadows.

Three Cookies emerged from the shadows. They were from The Cookies of Darkness. Pomegranate was the first to speak. “Looks like your lost” soon Affogato came out of the shadows, only having a sinister smile.

“Heheh… you cookies took a wrong turn” a cookie in the shadows said, Affogato and Pomegranate looked at the shadows, both unimpressed and annoyed.

“Matcha Cookie. Your wee meant to follow after me.” Affogato sighed. Soon a cookie who vaguely resembled Dark enchantress “Grrrrr…. Can it! I did it! You just can’t see!” The cookie who is apparently named Matcha Cookie said

Pomegranate soon looked back to the group. “I highly suggest that you hand over your soul jam if you don’t want things to get nasty” soon some cookies they’ve never seen before came from the shadows and practically surrounded them.

The group was about to engage in combat when all of a sudden some purple smoke engulfed them all… and then a cookie spoke…

“I am the Terror that dashes through the night…”

#crk #cookie run #crk x reader

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fixaidea · 8 months ago

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Right, come along with me for another useless thought experiment. I'm gonna rank the characters of my latest fandoms by how they would react to Woland and Co.

Old-timey Chinese novels:

No need to go into too much detail here, since no matter the individual character's reaction (ranging from none at all to unease to realising they're dealing with *some* sort of an underworld entity) nothing would really come of the encounter. They all fall outside of Woland's jurisdiction, he's not out to get them.

The TGCF cast would see an annoying neighbour who's trespassing on their turf.

Modern-timey Chinese novels:

Wu Xie is seriously alarmed, but can't explain why. He does see the large black cat walking on his hind legs that lurks around the Professor, but he explains it away as some sort of a mutant with a weird camouflaging ability, since most people's gaze seems to kinda slide off him.

Xiaoge, Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan all know exactly who they're looking at. Xiaoge is respectful but unconcerned (he's none of his business), Lord Kunlun and the Ghost Slayer are unbothered and unimpressed.

The Locked Tomb

You'd think that in a book so full of necromancers at least half a cast would clock him but nope. Most don't.

Camilla gets the creeps but wouldn't know why.

Palamedes, Harrow and Augustine can tell he's different and worse than anything they've ever seen, but can't tell who he is.

Abigail Knows.

So does Jod. He tries to convince himself he's not in trouble. He is.

Wizard of the Crow

Most of the people of Eldares wouldn't know who they're looking at any more than the good folks of Moscow did and the encounter would play out pretty similarly too.

Nyawĩra would notice something is wrong but she's too grounded in material reality to recognise him.

Kamĩtĩ Knows.

A Sweet Sting of Salt

Muirin and her family would be able to tell they are dealing with some sort of dangerous supernatural being, but would not recognise him

The rest of the cast would be none the wiser.

Beyond Evil

Han Joowon would not know who he's looking at but he WOULD spot the giant black cat and he WOULD believe his eyes. Whether he's personally any of Woland's business is unclear.

Lee Dongsik Knows.

#master and margarita #the locked tomb #guardian #dmbj #wizard of the crow #a sweet sting of salt #beyond evil

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littlefoxwithbighat · 1 year ago

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Dynamics/ Team-ups I want to see in the life series!

Etho & Gem

You've seen their dynamic on Hermitcraft together. Do I need to elaborate. It'd be so funny. Gem is entirely unimpressed by his shanigans (shes an Ethogirl at heart). They would do really well.

Mumbo & Lizzie

I honestly feel like they would mesh so well together. Mumbo and Lizzie both have quite similar, awkward "I-don't-know-what-I'm-doing and-I'm-afraid-but-I-enjoy-the-chaos" energies. I think they would be so much fun. Would they be an effective team? Probably not. But would they have the most shenanigans? Yes.

Gem, Cleo, Pearl & Lizzie

TEAM GIRL TEAM GIRL i honestly think this would be the most amazing friendship it'd be so fun. Guys please.

BigB & Grian

They're friends irl and it shows in their dyanmic chemistry on screen. BigB likes to hang back and Grian likes to be the centre of things, and I think in this regard they'll help balance each other out. Also Grian has wanted to team qith BigB since 3rd life, they'd both enjoy it!

BigB & Martyn

Also friends irl. Martyn likes being witty and starting bits and BigB is genuinely really talented in yes and-ing and continuing bits. They both match each other in terms of being very forthright and very myterious all at once.

Scott & Tango

I just feel like Tango and Scott would match each other's energies and playstyles quite well. They're both interested in the technical aspects of the game and playing to win, but neither are afraid to take a break for bits. Scott's building and Tango's redstone would be a terrifying force together.

Skizz & Grian

I refer you to GIGS phasmophobia streams.

Martyn, Etho & Joel

This team would be a huge disaster. I can see the in-fighting from here. They would come up with the stupidest schemes known to man. They would all be besties. They would have at least 3 divorces. I have got to see this happen it would be brilliant.

Martyn & Gem

Both really like being witty and come-backs. They would be so smart together. Both of them are super competitive but also love the shenanigans and improv. I think they would also yes-and each other till the end.

Martyn & BDubs

BDubs doesnt get enough credit for his wit and improv, hes so talented! Martyn is the witty improv guy. They would be an absolute force together. They wouldn't get anything done, and would probably spend too much time spying together. But the shenanigans and rp would be fantastic.

Pearl & Grian

They would be the absolute worst. Theyd probably die horribly and fight all the time. Itd be really funny though.

Mumbo, Tango & Skizz

They just seem like they all get along really well. A good mixture of chilling and silliness. :DD

Mumbo & BigB

I want to see them hang out more they seem like they would be best friends itd be really wholesome. I don't think they'd win. I think it would be an excellent vibe.

Scar & Lizzie

They both have very similar senses of humour. They both love running with particular characters (see Fairy Queen Lizzie and Wizard Scar). They are both goofy and silly and loveable and threatening to blow your house up. Peak dynamic. It'd be amazing.

Scar & Bdubs

I refer you to HC s7. Trust me itd be good.

#life series #trafficblr #traffic series #traffic smp #secret life #limited life #double life #last life #3rd life #sorry to any CCs who didnt get included!#most of the time that happened its not me playing favourites #its just that idk them well enough to point out what i think good CC dynamics would be #or in Jimmys case all the CCs i thought he would especially click well with (Martyn and Tango) hes already teamed with!#anyway yes if anyone has other team dynamics they want to see please comment below #i want to see them #and CCs if you see this PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE #long post

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bluerose5 · 1 year ago

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A Light in the Shadows

Another scene rewrite of sorts. A little talk after crafting the shadow lantern.

...

Usually, Falorin was all about learning from Gale.

There was something soothing —and dare he say, intimate— in hearing about magic from his perspective, in experiencing the world through his eyes. Even when Falorin knew of a subject, he simply adored Gale's passion for wizardry, so more often than not he indulged his need to share his knowledge.

This time, however, was not one of those moments.

The shadow-cursed lands already set Falorin on edge enough as is. When they came across Balthazar's ritual circle, its dark magics resonated with those inside him, leaving a bitter taste lingering on his tongue.

But Gale seemed to be of two minds on the matter. On one hand, he would upset Mystra for even considering to dabble in such magic. On the other, destroying a potential tool that could wield the shadows would leave it "wasted, arguably." His words, not Fal's.

Falorin took what he thought was the logical solution, a compromise to satisfy them all.

He told Gale to let him deal with the circle, and Gale's response?

"Deal with it how?" he asked, his tone skeptical, doubtful. "I hate to pull rank, but I was once Mystra's chosen. Destroying magic like this was my bread and butter." And because Gale —in typical wizard fashion— didn't seem to know when to stop talking, he dug himself deeper into that hole, rubbing salt into Falorin's wounds. "Oh, or did you wish to use it? I assure you — it's pointless. You'll have nothing more than a sore head and a very dissatisfied wizard to show for it."

Falorin stared at him, the shadows inside him festering.

From their position at the door, Astarion and Lae'zel watched the scene unfold.

Astarion sighed at Gale with a shake of his head. "Foot, meet mouth. Do you actually hear yourself when you speak at times?"

Lae'zel, on the other hand, scowled at the sudden tension.

"He questioned Falorin's talents, did he not?" she asked, wrinkling her nose in disdain.

Gale's eyes widened. He looked at Fal in a panic, who simply continued to gaze back at him, his brow furrowed, lips pursed.

"I–I didn't—" Gale stammered, but Lae'zel was quick to interrupt.

"If you doubt him so, then perhaps you should duel," Lae'zel suggested, her voice as sharp as steel. "Let's see if he proves worthy of your high standards."

"What?!" Gale gaped at her. "No! We—Falorin and I are not going to duel."

"Shame," Astarion muttered, eyeing him up and down, unimpressed. "I would've loved to see him wipe the floors with you."

"Agreed," Lae'zel said.

"Guys," Falorin scolded. He cast them a warning glance, since clearly what happened was a matter between him and Gale, and only them. "Enough."

They begrudgingly stood down.

Silently, Falorin turned back to the workbench.

Taking Gale's earlier words into account, Falorin used his magic to gather the remaining essence of the pixie corpses, along with the heavy dose of Shadow Weave from the circle, and he turned it onto one of the broken lanterns.

He modified the casting gesture as he suggested, and that was it. He was done.

Falorin crafted the lantern himself, yet he felt no triumph.

If anything, he only felt a growing emptiness inside him.

Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the room.

Lae'zel and Astarion were quick to clear the way, but Falorin stopped to shove the lantern into Astarion's arms.

"There," he muttered. "Make use of it."

With that, he rushed out of Balthazar's quarters.

Gale was right on his heels, shoving past the others to get to him.

They made their way out onto the adjacent balcony that overlooked the cursed lands around them.

"Falorin, wait!"

The second his hand reached for his, Falorin snatched away and turned on him, his left pupil appearing to expand until it consumed his eye entirely, left with a void of black, inky darkness in its wake.

All of the warmth —that radiant glow of his— was drained from his skin. It turned a sickly, pale gray instead, and all of the luster of his vibrant hair faded away, dulled into an almost colorless state.

"And why should I?" Falorin hissed, mindful of the ears that might be listening out below. "So you, Mystra's former Chosen, can try and teach your fellow wizard something else that I already know?"

"Okay." Gale released a bitter laugh, wagging a finger at him. "Now, that was uncalled for."

"Was it, though?" Falorin countered.

"Maybe I should chalk this all up to being some side effect of the Shadow Weave."

"No," Falorin said, blunt as could be. "This is Falorin talking, not the Shadow Weave. Because, the way I see it, patronizing me in front of our friends was uncalled for, yet that didn't stop you from doing so, did it?"

Gale huffed.

"Was it really so terrible that I would rather rely on past, proven experience than beginner's luck?" he asked.

"'Beginner's luck'?" Falorin seethed, lips spread to bare sharp teeth in his direction. Little, web-like cracks formed throughout the surface of his skin, spilling over with wispy shadows. "Damn it, Gale, look at me. I have been living with dark magic inside of me for years now. I have spent decades pouring over every tome, every sentence, every word, every letter about the most ancient and forbidden magics out there in search of something —anything— that could remove this curse, so don't you fucking dare pass my knowledge off as 'beginner's luck' when I only even did it so you wouldn't be exposed to that much Shadow Weave to begin with."

His breath caught, voice breaking.

As soon as Falorin felt his eye burn with the beginning of tears, he turned away from Gale, wrapping his arms tightly around himself, as if that would somehow keep him from falling apart.

All at once, his anger left, a heavy sorrow taking its place.

"I didn't want to risk it corrupting you," Falorin whispered.

The thought alone made his chest ache.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he quickly clasped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, but he couldn't quite hide the slight hitch of his shoulders.

Gale extended a hand to him without thinking, to comfort him, but Fal quickly darted away once he felt him drawing closer.

"No," he gasped. "You shouldn't touch me while I'm like this." He shook his head, glancing down at the ground between them. "I could hurt you."

"You won't."

Gale didn't hesitate.

Before Falorin could stop him, he stepped forward and cupped his cheeks.

Falorin winced, but he felt no urge to feed, to drain the life's essence from his body.

No, even then, when all was darkness within him, Gale's very presence —their bond— was a light to keep the shadows at bay.

Stunned speechless, Falorin looked up, only to find Gale already staring back at him, his expression reverent.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, tracing his thumb along the curve of his lips.

Falorin gave a tearful laugh.

"And you're still in trouble," he replied, to which Gale smiled sheepishly in turn.

"Understandably so." He rested his forehead upon Fal's. Their tadpoles resonated in a purr. "I hope you know that I do not doubt your abilities, and I am truly sorry for ever making you feel that way. Your intelligence is a marvel to bear witness to, and I am grateful to be able to share in it every day. It's just that you know as well as I that, if all those components had not been handled with great care, then the spell would have been as quick to backfire on us as it would have been to benefit us. You say that you did not want it to corrupt me, but I was worried about what it would do to you."

At that, Falorin spared him a wobbly smile.

"We really are quite the pair, aren't we?"

"That, we are, my dear, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

As if he wouldn't melt upon hearing that.

Throwing his arms around his shoulders, Falorin dragged him down into an eager kiss.

Caught off guard, Gale yelped at the sudden yank, but he instantly settled into Falorin's embrace, holding him close as their lips found each other.

Warmth spread throughout Falorin's chest, his love for Gale burning brighter than the sun itself.

That love reached out far and wide, spanning from head to toe. Slowly but surely, Falorin returned to his usual self.

It might not have been a cure per se; but for the moment, it was enough, burning away the shadows that remained.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #gale dekarios #tav x gale #gale x tav #falorin sungleam #my oc #bluerose writes #dhampir tav

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