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sheeple · 7 months

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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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darkurgetrash · 5 months

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Gods' Damned Gale Dekarios!

Hi all! After reading this amazing post by @gale-dekarios, I couldn't help but write this silly, goofy one-shot. Please enjoy!|[Read on AO3]

Rating: General Audiences Wordcount: 4,576 Summary:

Opulentus is Waterdeep's most renowned wizard—a charming, handsome prodigy whose charisma commands respect. But when his long-time nemesis, Gale of Waterdeep, returns after years of disgrace, everything Opulentus holds dear is threatened. Gale, once stripped of his magic for defying Mystra, has somehow become the hero of Baldur's Gate, returning with a beautiful fiancée, newfound fame, and an air of humility that leaves Opulentus seething. Now, there is only one question on Opulentus' highly intellectual mind... What is Gods' Damned 'Gale Dekarios' up to?!

Requested Tags: @onlyfangz @kwrite1776 @dont-try-pesticide

Opulentus had always considered himself quite the ladies' man. It was hard not to, after all, when you were the most renowned, most wealthy, and most handsome wizard in all of Waterdeep. From child prodigy to a fellow at Blackstaff Academy, the very same institution where he'd studied since he was just a bright-eyed boy, there was no greater catch in the city. He was a legend in his own right, with a knack for charm and a wit that could melt even the hardest of hearts.

Tonight would be no different, he decided, as he twizzled his luscious, dapper moustache between his fingers, his gaze roaming across the rambunctious regulars of The Quaffing Quaggoth before landing on what might have been the most beautiful woman he'd ever layed eyes on. She stood out even in the crowded tavern, her presence like a breath of fresh air amid the rowdy patrons.

She was a half-elf by the looks of things, with soulful, winged eyes and long, dark waves that cascaded down her back in a flawless display of beauty. Her warm tawny skin was radiant, her cheeks kissed by rouge and her lips a gentle shade of berry pink. Her features seemed as if sculpted by Sune herself, crafted to be the perfect match for Opulentus' own magnificence.

Opulentus couldn't help but smile. Here was a challenge worth his considerable talents. He adjusted his shirt collar and straightened his posture, making sure his charms were in full effect.

Then, with an air of unrivalled confidence, he took a step forward, ready to make an impression. The wizard's reputation preceded him, but he knew that his charm would have to do the rest. After all, beauty like hers deserved nothing less than the best Waterdeep had to offer. And that, of course, was Opulentus himself!

“Oh, barkeep!” he called, suave and cool, as he stood beside her at the bar. As expected, she turned her head at his magnanimous presence. “A glass of your finest wine, please. For myself and…” He glanced at her with a wry, flirtatious smile. “This goddess among mere mortals.”

The woman raised her eyebrow at him, an amused smile curving her lips. She was probably thanking the gods for her good fortune, Opulentus thought, to be noticed by him—the most successful man this side of the Sword Coast.

“That’s quite alright,” she replied, her lilted voice sending shivers down his spine. “I have plenty of coin for my own drink.”

“Ah, but m’lady,” he said, mirroring her expression, “one so beautiful should not have to spend her own coin, no matter how much of it she may have.”

He let his gaze sweep down her frame, noting her graceful yet slightly athletic build and the freckles dotting her collarbones. Could this be the woman he'd finally settle down with?

“I’m afraid to tell you that I’m quite taken,” she said, holding up a hand to stop the bartender as he moved to pass her the glass of wine.

“‘Taken’ is but a small obstacle, my dear,” he scoffed, running his fingers through his hair, making sure to flex his biceps as he did so. “I assume you know who I am?”

“Not at all,” she replied, her unimpressed tone making it clear how devoutly she was playing hard-to-get. By the gods, this woman was practically throwing herself at his feet!

“Ah, but then you must have travelled far! For I am the greatest wizard on the Sword Coast, a celebrity in my own right. My name is—”

“Elminster’s Beard – Gary? Gary Johnson?”

At the mention of his given name, one he'd long repressed, a chill ran through him. Not only because of the rude interruption but because it was a voice he knew all too well. His long-time nemesis, a rival to end all rivals.

“Gale of Waterdeep.” He snarled, turning to see the man standing behind him. The sight was enough to make his skin crawl—Gale, with his quickly greying long hair tied back in a bun, and his annoyingly perfect face wearing that insufferably charming smile. How could it be genuine after the embarrassment he'd suffered two years ago?

Indeed, when Gale of Waterdeep—the one man who had always outshone him, ever since their days as juniors at Blackstaff Academy—had proven himself a foolish, arrogant wizard, when he'd dared to betray Mystra, and was subsequently stripped of his magic, Opulentus had rejoiced. It was the happiest day of his life! Finally, he was the best!

Yet here was Gale again, voice bright, skin radiant, with that same smile that made Opulentus grind his teeth. How could he be so joyful, so confident, after everything that happened? It was inconceivable – nay, impossible!

But he wouldn’t let such a disruption ruin his game. The man was a cad, a poor excuse of a wizard, and he would not let him take this chance from him.

He forced a charismatic smile to return to his face, as if the mere sight of Gale didn’t have him already quaking with envy, and patted the man firmly on his tall shoulder.

“Ah, my old friend!” He cheered through gritted teeth, “How have you been? Though you are quite mistaken, my name is Opulentus. Gary Johnson was my…” He paused, trying to conjure up an excuse. “...my brother! Ah, but that little fallout with Mystra must have rattled your brains some, hmm chum?”

“You always were so very humorous!” Gale replied, his laughter sounding so genuine that Opulentus could do nothing but blink in response. “And ‘rattle my brains’ it did, I’m afraid. Though, I’m sure you’ll be happy to know, I am quite returned to my old self – though certainly with many improvements!”

Gale skirted around him so that his hand lay on the beautiful woman’s shoulder – so bold! So brazen! However, as he did, she looked up at him with the largest, most adoring eyes that Opulentus couldn’t help but blush… Ah, but in rage! Was this some twisted nightmare?!

“Opulentus, this is my betrothed, Tav. Does she not put the stars to shame?” Gale said oh so sweet and softly that Opulentus’ skin prickled. “Tav, this is… Opulentus. He and I trained at Blackstaff together as young men.”

“Nice to meet you, Opulentus.” She said, her tone equally as amused as before, though there was something softer in it, touched by tenderness. By gods, she was smitten with Gale of Waterdeep of all people! What lies must this man have wrought to have captured such a goddess’ heart so fully? For the second time no less?!

“Charmed,” he replied, sharply, but with as much false delight as could possibly be mustered, given the circumstances.

But ah…! Was this not the perfect opportunity to make this poor girl aware of the man’s true nature? It would be cruel to keep her in the dark, surely this is why fate brought her to him! He’d rescue her, a beauty from a beast, and in the process, woo her. But that was his destiny. He was sure of it.

“Tav, you say? And how did you meet?” He snarled. “Last I heard, Gale, you had secluded yourself to your tower in disgrace! Nought but a tressum to keep you company.”

“You are right, old friend,” The man nodded, seemingly… unbothered. “It is much too long a story, but the short of it is that — in a world of infinite possibilities — fate somehow brought the two of us together… Under the threat of ceremorphosis, no less!” He chuckled. “I’d have never thought I’d be thanking a mind flayer for my good fortune, but I suppose stranger things have happened.”

To say Opulentus was confused would be beyond obvious. Who was this man in front of him, so non-combatively taking such blows? Completely humbled yet talking of strange and potentially grave matters as if they were nothing? Something was surely amiss.

“Ah — then Tav, you must have saved this poor soul, I assume? My old friend, you see, had been stripped of his magic after defying his ex-lover, the goddess Mystra herself! I’m sure he must have been quite the burden to you.”

“Oh no, we saved each other in more ways than can be imagined.” She said lovingly, as giddy as could be as she lay a slender hand on Gale’s chest, he beaming at her, the heat between them unavoidable. Opulentus was beginning to feel angry. But no — he shouldn’t lose his cool. After all, he was the successful one! The powerful one! The one with… credentials! He’d finally beaten Gale of Waterdeep!

“You’re too modest, my love,” Gale said. “But, ah, we should be heading off. Wouldn’t want to keep mother waiting.” He wrapped his arm around Tav’s waist as she stood, floating to her feet like some ethereal being. “Let us meet again, soon, Opulentus. I’m sure my love would be most regaled by our schoolboy days – how competitive we both were!”

Opulentus’ smile fell flat. How dare this man pretend that the competition didn’t remain? Wasn’t he now flaunting his beautiful betrothed right in his face?!

"A pleasure, Gale of Waterdeep," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Likewise, and please, it’s Gale Dekarios now. So long!”

And with that, the wizard and the beauty disappeared from the bar, leaving Opulentus scowling, a stem of wine in hand that he didn’t even bloody like. Ah - blows to it all! This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Gale might think he had won some grand prize with his new love, but what did he know? After all, this Tav clearly had poor taste in men, seeing as she had chosen the most disgraced wizard in Waterdeep. Quite, she would not have been worth his time – a firebolt dodged, if ever Opulentus saw one.

Gale ‘Dekarios’, hmm. A plain name quite befitting a fallen rival.

Opulentus took a swig of his wine, grimacing at the taste. Who needed love and relationships? He had success, prestige, and all the respect that came with being the best wizard on the Sword Coast, a fellow of Blackstaff Academy. Let Gale keep his pretty bride-to-be; it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. What truly mattered was respect. And Opulentus had plenty of it.

With a self-affirming nod, Opulentus downed his wine and stormed out of The Quaffing Quaggoth – nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so.

“Quiet down, class, quiet down!” Opulentus urged as he entered the lecture hall, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Normally, his students were quick to settle when he gave the command – his reputation as a strict yet brilliant professor preceded him – but today was different. The usual murmurs and whispers had escalated into a cacophony of excited chatter, much to his irritation.

"Class, quiet down!" he called again, this time with more authority. He banged his staff on the podium, which usually silenced the rowdy students, but today it had little effect. His patience was thinning, and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. What could possibly be so interesting that it overshadowed his entrance?

He focused on some of the students seated near the front, leaning in slightly to catch snippets of their conversation. It didn’t take long for him to piece together the cause of the commotion.

“Did you hear? The new Professor of Illusions is one of the saviours of Baldur’s Gate!!”

“YES! And oh my gods, and he’s sooo handsome!”

“-- And his partner! My bisexual awakening for real for real.”

“Seriously, such babygirl energy.”

“The biggest, I’m literally rattling the bars on my enclosure right now—”

Opulentus’ eyebrow twitched. So that was it—some new hotshot had taken the role of "celebrity professor," drawing all the attention away from him! Well, he certainly wasn't about to let some flashy hero usurp his position as the academy’s most respected instructor, even if they did have an impressive title.

Of course, he too had heard of the situation over in Baldur’s Gate – it had become international news at this point, the talk of every tavern. A Netherbrain had threatened the city only to be destroyed by a group of adventurers, and in several of the higher Wizarding circles, it had even been rumoured to have ties to Karsus, though that seemed preposterous, nothing more than illicit tales.

He cleared his throat and raised his voice authoritatively.

"I'm sure you're all quite excited to meet your new instructor, but in the meantime, you're in my class! Let's show a little respect, shall we?" The students quieted a bit, though he could still see their eyes darting back and forth with whispered gossip, like they couldn't wait to get out of his lecture and hear more about the new professor.

This would require a more forceful approach. He banged his staff once more, harder this time, and then leaned forward with a stern look that he reserved for such occasions.

“You’re here to learn the advanced arts of Transmutation, not to gossip about other professors. Now, open your texts to page seventy-three, and let's begin–”

“ – Sorry to interrupt, old friend!”

Opulentus’ blood turned cold. Gods. Not him… anyone but him.

The lecture hall erupted once more in excited chatter as Gods’ Damned Gale of Waterdeep – ah, Gale Dekarios, suddenly waltzed into the room, his genial hand raised in greeting as he moved with effortless grace. The wizard wore immaculate scholarly robes, each step radiating an air of self-assured charisma that made Opulentus seethe. The students were captivated, and his annoyance grew with every whisper.

He had been the one to save Baldur’s Gate?! Infeasible! Absurd! The man must have shared some resemblance to one of the heroes and caused rumours to spiral, as they so often did in academic institutions. It could not be!

He clenched his jaw, trying to regain his composure as Gale approached closer, his smile as wide as ever, his demeanour exuding easy charm. Opulentus straightened, preparing to speak with the man quietly, without drawing more attention.

“I hope I’m not inconveniencing you at all, my astute colleague,” Gale said, “but I wondered if I may be so bold as to join your lecture? I believe it would be most beneficial to observe your teaching style with these particular students before taking them on myself, next period.”

Opulentus could feel rage boiling like a frog in a pot deep within his chest, so intensely that he was certain it was affecting his cholesterol levels. But what choice did he have? It was, as the saying goes: ‘Keep your enemies close, and your… friends closer?’ Wait, was that right? It didn’t seem right. Bah, alas. It didn’t matter.

"Of course," Opulentus said, forcing his tone to stay light and welcoming. "I’d be delighted to have you sit in. I'm sure you'll find my teaching style quite... instructive." He added a slight edge to his last word, just enough to hint that he was in control here, not the intruding, fraudulent Gale Dekarios.

Gale grinned broadly.

"Thank you, Opulentus! I look forward to learning from your vast experience."

Opulentus gestured to a chair in the corner of the room, a clear signal that this was as far as Gale would be allowed to intrude.

"Feel free to take a seat over there. I was just about to begin our discussion on advanced transmutation techniques. I'm sure you'll find it enlightening."

Gale nodded with a smile and made his way to the designated spot, his presence drawing the attention of several students who whispered and pointed in his direction. Opulentus took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was the one in charge here. Gale could observe, but he would not disrupt the lecture. Not if he had anything to say about it.

He turned back to the class, raising his voice to regain their focus.

"Alright, everyone, let's get back to our discussion. Please open your texts to page seventy-three, and let's dive into the finer points of matter fabrication…"

Throughout the lecture, he couldn't help but glance at Gale out of the corner of his eye, watching for any signs of further interference. But Gale just sat there, smiling and nodding, as if he were the most obedient student in the room.

Oh, how he hated him. Stupid, handsome, charming Gale Dekarios! This had to be another ploy, some underhanded scheme. The Gale he knew would have been all interruptions, eager to be the centre of attention. Yet, the man in his classroom was playing the role of humble observer—graceful, courteous, infuriatingly well-mannered.

Opulentus clenched his fists beneath the podium, his knuckles white with frustration. What had happened to the brash, reckless Gale he knew? This new version was even more unbearable. And the students! They were enchanted by him, their eyes constantly flicking over to where he sat, hoping to catch his eye.

But Opulentus refused to let Gale's presence diminish him. He'd worked too hard, earned too much respect to let one exiled wizard, no matter how charming, take that from him. So Gale had a pretty wife and the adoration of students. Big deal! Opulentus still had the accolades, the titles, the power that came with his position. He was still the respected professor, the one with connections to the most powerful wizards in Waterdeep.

He was the Opulentus! He'd won their rivalry!

Yet, as his eyes kept darting toward his new colleague, an unsettling feeling began to creep in. Was it… admiration? No, it couldn't be. Respect? Even more absurd. Gale was a has-been, a disgraced wizard who had defied Mystra herself, the goddess of magic. To admire him would be laughable.

And yet... there was something about Gale's unshakable confidence, his genuine warmth with the students, that gnawed at Opulentus's sense of superiority. It was as if Gale had found a different kind of power, one that didn't rely on accolades or titles.

And it was maddening.

“Please, I thank you all for your kind welcomes, but I can hardly take so much credit!”

“Mr Dekarios, no need to be so modest! What you did was quite spectacular – if you don’t mind me saying so! From disgraced wizard to the chosen of Mystra, and with power even more potent than before!”

“You flatter me, but please, call me Gale.”

Gods! Even in the staff room, there was no relief from this man! Opulentus sat in the corner, sulking over a mug of black coffee, glaring at Gale over the rim of his glasses. The wizard was surrounded by colleagues who fawned over him, eager to hear his tales and bask in the glow of his newfound glory. Turns out – as inconceivable as it was – Gale Dekarios had been a saviour of Baldur’s Gate. Along with his betrothed, Tav, who was apparently a scholar in her own right, a sorcerer local to that city.

Opulentus took a long, bitter sip of his coffee, feeling the heat scorch his tongue but doing little to warm his mood. Why was everyone so taken with Gale all of a sudden? The man had been a pariah not long ago, a laughing stock among wizards. Yet now, here he was, the hero of Baldur's Gate, Mystra's chosen, and the most popular professor at the academy.

Gods. He couldn't stand the way everyone treated Gale like a celebrity, as if his past failures had never happened. It was as if Opulentus' years of hard work, his dedication to his craft, meant nothing compared to Gale's apparent underdog comeback. It wasn't fair!

But as he sat there, scowling into his coffee, a realisation struck him. It wasn't just the attention that bothered him—it was the fact that Gale didn't seem to care about any of it. He wasn't seeking adoration or approval; he was just... there, enjoying the company of others, sharing stories, and spreading good cheer.

And looking ever-so dashing as he did so…

…Bah! But it was all for show! It must be! Yet, try as he might, Opulentus could not make sense of it. He closed his eyes and pictured a grand conspiracy board with strings and thumbtacks, connecting all the dots of Gale's previous manipulations and betrayals. Surely there was a pattern here, some thread that would explain how Gale had orchestrated his miraculous comeback, how he had once again stolen the spotlight from under Opulentus' nose.

But no matter how hard he tried, the lines remained tangled, the connections fuzzy, and the dots... incongruent. It just didn’t make sense.

Well, fine! If Gale wanted to play the role of the humble hero, so be it. Opulentus would play the role of the brilliant, stoic professor—the one with real power and authority.

He loudly cleared his throat.

"Ah, Gale, quite the story! I'm surprised you're not writing books by now with all these tales. Although, I suppose it's easier to entertain people with fancy retellings than to actually do any real work, isn't it?"

The other staff members turned to Opulentus, a few of them raising their eyebrows at the unexpected jab. Gale, however, didn't seem fazed. He… chuckled!

"Well, storytelling is an art, after all.” He smiled. “But you're right, Opulentus—nothing beats the hard work and dedication that would go into writing novels, as I’m aware you have done time and time again. I guess that's why I have so much respect for you and your teachings! You’ve always been one to work tirelessly, never settling for less, be it in your writings or in the classroom."

Opulentus blinked, thoroughly surprised at the unexpected compliment. It surged something warm inside him, a friendly caress to his ego, and he found himself… blushing.

The other staff members nodded in agreement with Gale's words, a few of them even smiling at Opulentus with a newfound appreciation. It only made him more flustered—this wasn’t the reaction he'd intended at all!

He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure, but the warmth spread across his face and down his neck betrayed him. He’d tried to undermine Gale, only to end up complimented himself. Gods, it was baffling! But he couldn't backpedal now, not in front of the other professors.

"Yes, well," he managed to stammer, "dedication is key, as you well know. But let’s get back to work, shall we? We've got students to inspire and knowledge to impart." He tried to sound authoritative, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him even further.

“Absolutely!” Gale nodded with a grin that seemed annoyingly sincere, as if he were truly delighted by Opulentus’s words. “And thank you, as ever, for such riveting conversation, old friend. Let us catch up later, hm?” Gale said, giving Opulentus a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving the staff room with a confident stride.

Opulentus watched him go, feeling the sting of defeat as his colleagues exchanged bemused glances and hushed whispers. He sat in the ensuing silence for a few minutes, gripping his mug, trying to push thoughts of Gale from his mind, but his introspection stirred, unrelenting and unquenchable.

No! No, he would not be defeated!

Resolutely, he slammed his mug down with a loud clatter and stormed out of the staff room, his mind racing with indignation. Damn it all, enough was enough! In just two days, Gale had swooped in, stealing the spotlight and proving himself to be Opulentus’ better once again. He wouldn't stand for it—not this time.

Turning the corner at the end of the long hall, his eyes fell on his rival across the hallway, the wizard speaking to a couple of students with his usual charm, the perfect picture of humility and enthusiasm. Opulentus cleared his throat loudly, causing Gale to turn toward him with that infuriatingly warm smile. The students glanced at Opulentus, then quickly scurried away, clearly sensing the tension.

"Alright, Gale," Opulentus said, his voice dripping with forced civility. "What's your plan? What are you after? Don't think I don't know what you're up to!"

Gale raised an eyebrow, his smile fading slightly.

"Plan? What do you mean?" he asked, genuine-seeming confusion in his tone.

"Don't play innocent!” Opulentus replied, crossing his arms. “You return to Waterdeep and your first call of action is to show me up! Bah – waltzing around and acting all friendly and humble, like a changed man, but I know you. You just want to steal the spotlight, steal my thunder as you always have done! But for what? What is your reasoning, old ‘friend’?”

Gale paused for a moment, his expression softening as he looked at Opulentus. There almost seemed to be a look of pity behind his eyes and such a sympathetic gaze turned his stomach to knots. He almost couldn’t bear to maintain eye contact.

"No, Opulentus, that's not it at all," Gale said at last, calmly. "Though… You are right, in a sense. I was once an arrogant man, the perfect picture of a wizard full of hubris, and it only led me to ruin… as you well know.”

Opulentus shifted on his feet awkwardly, annoyed at himself for losing his composure. Yet, this was good. This meant that this ‘new Gale Dekarios’ would finally reveal himself.

“But I have changed. The journey I went on, the people I met, it showed me a different path – one I could have scarcely foreseen. I used to be obsessed with power and recognition, and I made a lot of mistakes because of it. I hurt a lot of people, including you.”

The man’s big brown eyes turned softer still, cute like a calf, guilty as could be. It struck a chord in Opulentus’ stone heart – but no… no, this… Was this true? Was Gale… apologising?

“...I would not be so careless again. I hope you can accept my most sincere apologies, and that we can perhaps forge a comradery going forward, perhaps even a friendship. You know… I’ve always respected you, Opulentus. I think we could learn a lot from each other.”

Gale offered his hand, palm open, inviting Opulentus to grasp it. Opulentus found himself gulping.

“What do you say? Shall we start over?”

Opulentus was taken aback. He’d expected denial, excuses, maybe even a fight, but an apology? And such a sincere one? It threw him off balance. He searched Gale's eyes, expecting to find some hint of deception, but there was none. Just honesty and remorse. He felt his anger waver – but no, could it be true?! Could Gale of Waterdeep really have changed? It was difficult to accept, but the warmth in his voice, the genuine regret in his eyes, seemed too real to ignore.

And so, Opulentus thrust his hand forward, grasping Gale's with a firm grip and giving it a hearty shake. Was it peculiar to say that it made his heart… flutter?!

“Alright, Gale,” he said slowly, keeping his expression neutral, though he was sure his confusion and fluster was evident. “We can start over. But don't think this makes us friends. Not yet. I’m still watching you.”

Gale nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

“Understood. Though, I hope you’ll forgive me for saying that I’m hopeful!”

Opulentus smiled back at him, releasing his hand with annoying reluctance. He cleared his throat.

“Depends,” He said, swallowing down that strange and unfamiliar feeling entangling inside of him. “...Does your wife-to-be have a sister?”

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale fanfic #gale fanfiction #gale headcanon #bg3 headcanons #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #♡#my fanfic

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justcallmefox89 · 8 months

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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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ladyzirkonia · 5 months

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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 · 10 months

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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 · 5 months

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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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fixaidea · 28 days

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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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wheretheharekissesthefox · 8 months

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Of demons and monsters - Chapter 2: Accommodate

Astarion can't stop fantasising about finally taking Gale. But, to his utter frustration, the wizard isn't willing. Thus, the vampire spawn's faced with his inner demons and monsters from the past.

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, anilingus, anal sex, cunnilingus, consensual blood drinking, body worship, biting, ear kink (kinda), fellatio, fingering, frottage, deepthroating, face-fucking, hand job, thigh fucking, vomiting, watersports, wax play, mentioning of past non-con/rape, character study, talking lots of talking, emotional rollercoaster, respecting boundaries is sexy)

Notes:

To avoid confusion: In one of my other fanfics, Halsin and Tav had named the owlbear cup Naïlo, which means 'night breeze' in the Elven language.)

The rest of the week, Gale was busy with work. Meanwhile, Astarion tried to be useful and productive. He was still unsure what he wanted to do with his newfound freedom. As a former magistrate, he had very specific knowledge, but it was outdated and didn't fit today's politics anymore. Thus, the vampire spawn pondered what else he could do and was talented at. It angered and frustrated him that the only other thing he was good at was seducing people. Astarion was disgusted, he'd never take a job in that line of work. For far too long, he'd been treated like a courtesan by Cazador. The vampire spawn felt like punching something – or causing a bloodbath.

Good-humoured, Shadowheart was walking home from the Selûnite temple. Today had been a calm day without a sudden surge of devotees visiting. Thus, Shadowheart went home earlier than usual. She was humming one of Tav's songs, her long braid swinging behind her back. Her silvery staff with a dark blue sphere on the top didn't just mark her as an authority figure, but could also serve as a trusty weapon. It made a clicking sound every time it connected with the cobblestones as the cleric walked through the streets. When she arrived at home and unlocked the front door, a pungent smell and Astarion's raised voice welcomed her.

"What do you mean 'two cloves are not two bulbs'? I don't see the difference!"

"That's a beginner’s mistake, Mister Ancunin," Tara replied calmly but sternly. "The recipe asks for two cloves of garlic, not two entire bulbs of it."

"How was I supposed to know that?" yelled the addressed.

Shadowheart heard some awful clattering noise and an obscene swearword.

"Please, Mister Ancunin, kicking the kitchen cabinet won't help you," tsked the tressym, unimpressed.

The cleric threw her shoes off and rushed into the kitchen. Astarion stood next to the stove, looking murderous, while Tara sat on a chair nearby like a tired mother who watched her child's temper tantrum. The countertop was a mess. Shadowheart took it all in, stunned.

"First, put the knife down, Astarion, and then tell me what's going on," she greeted him.

The addressed jumped at the sound of her voice and turned around.

"Oh... uhm, hello Shadowheart. I didn't hear you," he replied bashfully and finally let go of the knife. "I was trying to cook, but this stupid recipe isn't telling me the right things!"

He glared at the mentioned book, seconds away from throwing it into the fire, but controlled himself since it belonged to Gale. Shadowheart moved closer.

"What's the problem? Something with the amount of garlic, I heard?"

"Yes," nodded Tara. "Mister Ancunin added two bulbs of garlic instead of two cloves. The soup's ruined and burns my nostrils! Phew!"

"I didn't know the difference," Astarion gritted out. "I've never cooked before. I never had to and now... well.... It's not necessary anymore. I can't even taste test the soup to try and fix it because I'd vomit immediately."

He looked crushed and Shadowheart had mercy on him. With a deep sigh, she grabbed a spoon and moved to the stove.

"Let me try it for you."

Astarion looked at her, surprised and wide-eyed.

"It – It might be really bad," he warned.

Shadowheart shrugged nonchalantly.

"Curiosity killed the cat."

She dunked the spoon into the simmering dish that smelled truly pungently of garlic, and put it in her mouth. Astarion and Tara watched her with bathed breath. Shadowheart grimaced and started coughing.

"Damn, Astarion! You could kill an entire legion of vampires with this thing!"

"Is it that bad?" he asked saddened.

"I told you to toss it out," Tara scolded him.

"No! No, we can fix it," intervened the cleric. "Just let me think for a second."

Excitedly, Astarion grabbed her arm, eyes sparkling with joy.

"Really? You think so?"

She nodded and a wide, happy smile spread over the vampire spawn's face. Tara, on the other hand, sighed deeply.

"What do you have in mind, Miss Hollowleaf?"

"Well... I'm not the best at cooking, but... we could use cream to mellow the strong garlic flavour and then, instead of making a soup, we could boil it down to a sauce in which we can toss some noodles."

"That sounds amazing!" cheered Astarion. "You're a lifesaver."

He hugged the cleric who was surprised about the vampire spawn's affectionate touch. He rarely did it. Smiling, she leaned into it and, because it felt right, even kissed his cheek. Astarion blinked at her dumbstruck. Shadowheart grinned at him.

"Come on, let's fix your dish."

With a groan, Gale closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He was tired. His pupils had been awful today: forgot their homework, talked during the lectures, almost burned the class room down because they'd ignored his warnings...

Why am I doing this to myself? Gale wondered. I should be a private tutor instead.

"Mister Dekarios!" Tara came running happily. "It's so good to see you. I've missed you."

The addressed chuckled and bent down to lift her up for snuggles.

"I saw you just this morning, my dearest Tara, and you've praised my cooking. – Apropos cooking, why do I smell garlic? It's rather pungent."

Tara sighed, long-sufferingly.

"Your lover cooked for you and made a terrible mistake."

"Tav? But she's rather good at cooking. Did she try garlic bread, or something?"

The tressym placed her front paws on his chest and looked up at the wizard.

"No, my dear Gale, it's Mister Ancunin."

The addressed's eyes widened, surprised and in disbelief.

"But... he doesn't know how to cook and doesn't need to. Why would he go to such lengths –"

"For you, silly," Tara snickered. "He wants to please you desperately."

"Oh..."

Gale was speechless. His heart thumped in his chest and he welled up a bit. His oldest friend rubbed her head against his clean-shaven chin, purring.

"Say hello to him. Shadowheart helped him save the mess."

The wizard huffed a laugh, placed Tara on the floor, and walked into the kitchen. Astarion, Shadowheart and Tav stood next to the stove, staring into the pot. Gale observed them quietly before making himself known.

"Hello, my dears. It smells delicious. A little tressym told me that a certain vampire spawn cooked his first meal and that a lovely cleric helped him."

The other three turned around and smiled at him.

"That's correct, darling. I wanted to do something nice for you," Astarion replied.

"It smells so damn good!" sighed Tav, salivating.

"You're in luck," snickered Shadowheart. "Dinner's ready."

She handed them their plates and they sat down to eat. Astarion fed Tara, Scratch and Naïlo before joining and observing the others anxiously. Gale rolled the thick noodles around his fork and elegantly brought them to his mouth. He closed his eyes as he chewed, savouring the flavours.

"Holy shit! It's so good!" exclaimed Tav. "You outdid yourself. That's so incredibly tasty!"

"Really?" asked Astarion, still anxious.

Shadowheart nodded and answered, with her mouth full: "It was a great idea to add cream. It mellowed everything out and the noodles soak up the flavours perfectly. We've created a masterpiece."

Now, everyone turned towards Gale who was still chewing his first mouthful. He finally swallowed and licked his lips.

"It's delicious," he said and the vampire spawn and the cleric breathed a sigh of relief. "The garlic flavour's strong, but pairs perfectly well with the cream, the pepper, and the pork belly chunks. Do I also taste a hint of nutmeg? And I believe there's chives."

Astarion nodded and the wizard smiled at him. When he rolled up his fork again, he added teasingly: "Whoever made the noodles needs more practice though. They're awfully thick."

Astarion grinned devilishly.

"It told you to let me do it. My knife skills are much better than yours."

"Shut up," grumbled Shadowheart, no heat behind her words, and shovelled more food into her mouth.

"I'm impressed," remarked Tav. " For this being your first time, you cooked incredibly well. Thank you, loves, for this absolutely tasty meal."

She kissed Astarion and Shadowheart.

"You smell like garlic," grumbled the latter.

"That's the point of a garlic sauce, and by the way, so do you, you silly goose," snickered the bard.

After dinner and when he was ready for bed, Gale pulled Astarion into a passionate kiss.

"Thank you for cooking. I appreciate it. It was delicious. One question though... Isn't it uhm... 'counterproductive' when I smell like garlic? I mean you're a vampire and all that."

Astarion chuckled, replying: "The garlic thing's a myth and holds no power over me."

He leaned up to kiss the wizard again. Then, he whispered against his lips: "Also, I don't mind when you smell like garlic. I'm fine with that."

"Hm, good to know," smiled Gale. "That means I can kiss you some more."

"You've already brushed your teeth, darling."

"That's not the point. I was seriously concerned when Tav kissed you during dinner. I thought you're going to melt or burst into flames or something to that effect. But I'm glad I was wrong."

He connected their lips again softly.

"Let's go to bed. I'm exhausted."

"Mhm, you do that, darling. Meanwhile, I'll go find a lovely meal on the streets. I'll join you later."

With one last kiss, Astarion left the house and Gale made his way to the bedroom. Tav already lay in their big, spacious bed, waving him closer.

One year into their relationship, Shadowheart, amid tears, had confessed that she couldn't sleep well when sharing a bed. Instead of judgement, she'd received sympathy. They'd bought a single bed for her and had moved it into the corner between the wall and some of their chest of drawers. Shadowheart didn't mind sleeping in the same room as others, but she needed space to get a refreshing good night's sleep. Which she required as a high priestess of Selûne who should radiate calmness and patience. Shadowheart still snuggled with the others in the big bed, but moved over to her own to sleep through the night.

Tonight, she already rested in her bed, dog-tired. Gale felt as worn-out as the cleric looked and face-planted into the bed.

"My students will be the death of me," he groaned. "It's exhausting to look after them so that they don't accidentally kill themselves."

Tav snickered and smooched him.

"Well then, goodnight and sleep well, love," she smiled.

With a hum, Gale kissed her forehead before collapsing onto the mattress and falling asleep shortly after. He didn't even register when Astarion joined them in bed.

Gale had the Fridays and weekends off, but they were often occupied by marking his pupils' essays and homework, or by preparing lectures and papers. Thus, the wizard was happy when he'd finished everything on Friday night. Contently, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his stiff limbs. He'd definitely overworked himself this week, not just because of his students but also because he'd done some private research.

Gale couldn't forget his conversation with Astarion regarding the latter's bedroom activity fantasies. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he could do it, the thought of being taken that way, filled him with so much discomfort, anxiety, and actual fear that he couldn't bring himself to do it. But there were other ways to accommodate his lover. Hopefully, it was enough.

Gale stood up, mind set on his mission, and took a bath. He washed himself thoroughly, dried off, and dressed in his favourite robe. Then, he went looking for his lover. He found Astarion in the living room, surrounded by the animals, reading a cookbook.

"So... 'simmering' means cooking something at a very low temperature, right?"

"Exactly, Mister Ancunin," purred Tara.

"I know what 'season to taste' means, but how should I do that without being able to actually taste the food?"

"Hmm... maybe follow every step except this one, and then let someone else taste and additionally season the dish for you, like Shadowheart did."

"That's probably the best idea," nodded the vampire spawn.

"Busy learning new things I see," smiled Gale and entered the room.

Scratch wagged his tail sleepily and Naïlo hooted as a greeting. Gale gave them some well-deserved affection.

"One's never too old to learn new things," replied Astarion. "I'm still figuring out what I'll do with myself now. I can't just vegetate in our home for the rest of my life. I want to pull my weight and do something useful with which I can earn some money. I can't work as a magistrate anymore though... The job was rather tedious anyway and it led up to the entire tragedy that is my life."

"You're rather talented at sewing and you have a very tasteful sense of fashion," Gale told him. "You'd make an excellent tailor."

"Maybe," muttered Astarion, lost in thought.

The wizard observed him for a bit before he said: "You seem busy and in a brooding state. I'll leave you be and come by later."

"No, it's fine," retorted the vampire spawn and looked up at him. "You're here, that means you'd like to tell me something. Go on, darling."

Gale licked his lips, confidence wavering.

"I uhm... I thought you might like to take this elsewhere. Your bedroom for example."

It immediately clicked in his lover's head and a grin spread over his face.

"I'd love to, darling," purred the vampire spawn. "I was waiting all week to have you. You always sleep like a log nowadays, because of your bratty students."

He pulled the wizard into a passionate kiss and then led him downstairs to his room. They immediately started to strip while Gale revealed: "I did some research and made some interesting discoveries."

"And you'd like to try them out? Oh, darling, I like that kind of research. You should do it more often," smirked Astarion.

Gale blushed a bit, cleared his throat, and smiled bashfully. They kissed, running their hands over each other's skin, and blindly stumbled towards the bed. Astarion brought the wizard under him, leaving biting kisses on his neck, and rubbed up against him. The wizard sighed and stroke his lover's pointy ears who shivered and moaned at the touch. Astarion bit down on his neck, not even drinking his blood, just burying his fangs in him. Gale groaned, his eyelids fluttered. There was something so intimate and erotic about being bitten – and fed on. He rolled his hips up into the vampire spawn, almost bucking the latter off. Astarion chuckled.

"Eager, are we?" He licked Gale's Adam's apple. "Let me taste you."

The wizard was surprised when his lover started kissing a trail down his torso instead of biting him again to feed. It seemed like he wanted to taste something else than blood.

"You should be the one on the receiving end," Gale panted. "I have some interesting things to share with you."

"Later," the vampire spawn told him and started to suck him off.

The wizard bit his lips and moaned lowly, running his fingers through his lover's hair. The latter pulled back with an obscene slurp and sat up. The hungry look on his face made Gale swallow nervously. Suddenly, something seemed to snap in Astarion.

"Turn around. Now," he growled and before the wizard had the chance to do anything, he was flipped onto his stomach. Astarion was immediately on him, kissing his back, licking down his spine, and biting his left buttcheek. Gale let out a little undignified squeak of shock at the uncharacteristic rough treatment and manhandling.

"Up on your knees."

The wizard was so shocked and confused about the situation that he complied. Astarion growled again, then, he spread his lover's cheeks and licked across his hole. Gale gasped, gripped by sudden fear.

"No."

He whined when the vampire spawn buried his tongue in him demandingly, opening him up.

"Astarion..."

The addressed grunted and drew back, only to push two well-oiled fingers into him and plunge his tongue right back in between them. Gale cried out when the vampire spawn stroke his prostate. It felt good, but the undoubtably soon-coming next step made him tremble in fear.

"No, Astarion, please stop."

The wizard sobbed. His mind unhelpfully already providing images of the further events. The tears spilled over and he turned his face into the bedsheets to stifle another sob.

"Astarion!" he cried in a panic. "No! Please stop! Please..."

The addressed suddenly drew back with a gasp and Gale dropped onto the bed with another sob. All his strength had suddenly left him.

"Shit," he heard Astarion pant. "Shit!"

The vampire spawn moved and rolled Gale onto his side to look at him. The latter's vision was blurry with tears as he gazed up at his lover who seemed almost as shocked and anxious as him.

"I can't, I'm sorry," Gale cried. "I really want to give this to you, but I can't."

"No, don't apologise. I pushed you despite knowing I shouldn't. I - I ignored your boundaries, your words. I'm truly sorry. I'll never do it again, I promise." Astarion looked angry. Not at him, Gale realised, but at himself. "Can I... can I touch you?"

The wizard nodded and utter relief showed on his lover's face. The vampire spawn lay down next to him and pulled him into a hug. Gale went willingly, with a deep sigh. Astarion kissed his forehead, holding him tight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I behaved like a monster."

"No. You stopped."

"Yes, but too late."

"It's – it's alright. You didn't go any further."

"But I thought about it." Now, Astarion tensed, angrily screwing his eyes shut and turning his head away. "I heard your pleas and despite of it, I seriously thought about shoving my dick into you and fucking you without your consent. – I'm so disgusting."

Astarion pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets and made an angry noise.

"I hate myself for it. – Gods, I'm acting like the monster I swore never to become!"

He gulped in some air, trembling.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

And before Gale could say or do anything, Astarion shot up from the bed, stumbled over to his washbasin and vomited into the porcelain bowl. His retching almost turned Gale's stomach as well. He quickly placed a hand on his queasy belly and mumbled a spell to ease the rising nausea . Then, he got up and rushed over to his lover who was still panting and dry heaving. He was hyperventilating, Gale realised. He placed a hand on Astarion's back and muttered a spell to calm him down and ease the nausea. The reaction was immediate. The vampire spawn relaxed, stopped gagging, and his breathing slowed.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Gale hummed and recited another spell to clean up the literal bloody mess. Then, he wrapped his arms around his lover.

"Sh, sh, it's alright, dear. I'm here and I won't leave," the wizard promised.

Astarion sobbed and pressed his face into Gale's shoulder, digging his fingers into him.

"I'm sorry. Please, forgive me, I beg you."

Gale kissed his temple and answered: "You don't have to beg. I'm still here, aren't I, and I promise you that I won't go as long as you want me around."

Astarion nodded, pressing himself even closer to the wizard, and the latter remembered what Astarion had told him.

'I want to crawl inside of you.'

Such simple words with such a heavy implication.

"I think it's best if we go to bed and rest," Gale said softly, and Astarion nodded again silently.

They lay down on the bed, tightly entangled. The wizard extinguished all the candles except for one and closed his eyes. He was almost asleep when he heard Astarion whisper pleadingly: "Please, don't hate me for what I've done."

"I could never hate you," mumbled Gale before sleep overpowered him for real.

When Gale awoke the next morning and blearily opened his eyes, Astarion was watching him with an unreadable expression.

"Morning, dear," mumbled the wizard. "May I kiss you?"

Relief showed on the vampire spawn's face and he nodded eagerly. Smiling sleepily, Gale placed a hand on his lover's cheek and his lips on his.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

The addressed shrugged.

"I'm still disgusted with myself."

"Don't be," Gale told him and kissed him again.

Astarion drew back and wanted to know: "How can you still love me?"

"Because I do," answered the wizard simply. "It's not like I can get rid of my feelings for you just because you've done something I don't approve of."

The vampire spawn chewed on his lower lip, asking: "Do you want to get rid of them? Your feelings I mean."

"No. I love you and nothing can changed that. I told you before."

Astarion bit his lip harder, frowning, until a small rivulet of blood dripped down his chin. Gale wiped it off gently, but his lover shied away from his touch.

"You said you'd still love me if I hurt you, but I don't want you to. If I'll ever hurt you in any shape or form, draw too much blood or force myself onto you, I want you to hate me. I want you to kill me. Show me no mercy if I'll become a monster like Cazador. Obliterate me like the grand wizard you are."

Gale's eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently.

"No! I could never." He gripped Astarion's arm to hold him closer as the latter tried to lean away further. "Please don't ask me to do such an unspeakable thing."

Astarion glared at him, baring his fangs.

"You all respect my boundaries. You never touch me without asking first. For years, you didn't touch my scars because it made me uncomfortable. I have so many boundaries, so many no-goes, and you just accept them. You, on the other hand, have one simple wish: to not be taken anally. And I am disgustingly upset about it. I tried to push your limit multiple times without taking into consideration how you feel about it! Like a selfish, wretched monster! What if I lose control for real? What if I rape you? What if I seriously hurt you, Tav, Shadowheart, or Halsin? What if I drain them dry, eh? Would you still love me?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Astarion," Gale snapped back. "I know who you are and what you are and I trust you. I know my lovers, my spouses. Bloody hells, I know my husband!"

At that, the vampire spawn stilled.

"Your husband," he mumbled, absentmindedly touching the silvery family sigil ring. A four-pointed star: Dekarios. His wedding ring.

"Yes," Gale said softly and stroke his cheek. "My husband Astarion Ancunin Dekarios. And my wife, Tav Sionnach Ancunin Dekarios. The loves of my life."

The vampire spawn blinked away tears, huffing a watery laugh.

"We're married," he sniffed, still in disbelief, and Gale smiled at him.

"We are, my dear."

He kissed him softly, left hand straying upwards to caress the pale elf's pointy ear. Astarion sighed and leaned into the touch.

"I still can't believe that not one but two people decided to love and marry me. I come with so much baggage. Why would you want someone who's broken like me?"

"Stop it. You're not broken," the wizard told him sternly. "You're traumatised and working your way through it. And I'm proud of you. We all are."

Astarion closed his eyes, leaning his head against Gale's shoulder. An ugly sob clawed its way out of his throat.

"I love you," he whispered, clinging to his lover.

The latter kissed his ear and stroke his back.

"I love you too. – Now, stop hurting yourself. Please."

Astarion nodded silently and Gale placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. The vampire spawn sighed, wrapping his arms around his husband, and breathed in the calming scent of lavender that lingered on the wizard's skin, hair, and clothes. Some things would never change. Astarion smiled softly. He drew back to look at Gale and leaned in to ravish his mouth. The latter moaned lowly and gave him a demonstration of his talented tongue. Gods, it made Astarion weak in the knees to think about what that tongue was capable of. The vampire spawn sunk his fingers into Gale's chest-length mane, marvelling at its softness once more. While moaning into his lover's mouth, the vampire spawn moved into his lap, searching for friction. The wizard gasped and wrapped a hand around them both.

"Yes," panted Astarion, bucking into the offered grip.

But Gale eased him back with his other hand against his chest and looked at him.

"Wait," he panted. "I have something better to offer. As I told you, I read up on some things."

"You're a walking, talking cyclopaedia. I don't think you'd need to read more," Astarion teased lightly.

Gale didn't take the bait and chuckled instead.

"Well, this wasn't my usual topic. I had to dig a little until I found what I've been looking for."

Now, the vampire spawn's curiosity got the better of him.

"Really? On what exactly did you read up on?"

Instead of answering, Gale lifted his hand, uttered a spell, and slid his glowing hand down his own throat. Astarion raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you need a spell to be more talkative. You're annoying enough as you are, darling."

Gale shook his head with an amused snort.

"It's not for talking. I can't give you what you want, but there might be something I can do that feels similarly good."

"And what's that?" asked Astarion curiously.

Gale blushed and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"The spell... It uhm... It completely removes one's gag reflex – and more."

Astarion's eyes widened in surprise.

"You want me to fuck your face?" he blurted out.

"No, my throat," muttered the wizard.

The vampire spawn suddenly felt dizzy.

"Oh... Oh, darling, I'd love that. If you're willing."

Gale swallowed thickly but nodded. He lay down on the bed and Astarion straddled his chest.

"You should - You should face the other way," the wizard told him, shyly. "I read that it feels better that way because –" He had to lower his gaze. "– because you can go deeper. It'll feel more like you're taking my uhm... you know."

Gale was incredibly uncomfortable to spell it out and Astarion had mercy on him. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his lover's lips.

"I'd love to try it."

He turned around, facing the foot of the bed instead of the headboard and slowly lowered himself down.

"Tap my leg if it's too much," he instructed the wizard who hummed.

Astarion took a deep breath, positioned his arms on the mattress at Gale's sides and bent his knees further. He bit his lips and moaned lowly when Gale took him in his mouth. Carefully, the vampire spawn rolled his hips forwards, sliding his cock down his lover's throat. When he went pass his uvula, Gale moaned instead of gagged, and Astarion's eyes rolled back.

"Oh, shit!" he groaned. "It feels so good."

Gale seemed pleased, gently stroking his thighs. The vampire spawn kept pushing forward and down the willing throat until Gale's lips touched his pubic bone. He moaned loudly, hips stuttering. The wizard's throat was tight, hot and soft – just like Astarion pictured his ass to be.

"Fuck," he groaned. "Oh, fuck... Gale…"

The addressed hummed around him, the vibration zapping through the vampire spawn like lightning. He whined and something snapped in him. He drew back, only to thrust in again, desperate to feel that tight clutch around him. Blissfully, Astarion threw his head back and started to fuck Gale's throat for real. He shoved his hips into him over and over again until he moaned with every exhale. His eyes rolled back in his head again and he closed his eyes.

"Yes," he groaned and climaxed with a blissful cry.

Gale's throat worked around him, swallowing his load. Astarion moaned and lost another flood. Slowly, he pulled out and gasped when his member slipped past his lover's soft lips. He had just enough strength left to turn around before he collapsed.

"Gods, darling... That was... I've never experienced anything like this before."

"Hmm." Gale smiled pleased, stroking Astarion's hair. "According to your reaction, my research was a success. – There's more by the way."

"Really?" The vampire spawn gazed at him, still drunk on his orgasm and terribly aroused. "Care to share?"

The wizard smirked smugly.

"But, you know, listening to my garrulous explanations and monologues is rather tedious. I wouldn't want to bore you."

Astarion snickered.

"Truer words have never been spoken. But still; tell me everything you learned while doing research, darling."

"Well..." Gale turned a bit to make better eye contact. "As you can probably imagine, there's endless literature on sexual practices, but I obviously looked for specific things that might please you. One starting point was your affinity for the differences in our body temperatures and I found some rather uhm... 'unconventional' methods. The first involves candles, or better said melted candle wax. It's easily explained and very forward: Light a candle, let the wax melt and drip onto your partner's body. It'll bring them excitement and pleasure."

"Sounds... interesting."

"Would you like to try it?"

When Astarion nodded, Gale stretched out his hand with a whispered spell and the candle on the nightstand flew over. He lit it with another spell and Astarion watched the calm flame with bated breath. There was some undiagnosable anxiety stirring in his belly, but he ignored it. Gale locked eyes with him.

"Are you ready?"

Astarion nodded.

"Are you sure you want to try this? You don't have to."

"I want to," replied the vampire spawn determinedly.

The wizard nodded, shifted his attention to the candle, and tilted it sideways. A small dollop of melted wax dropped onto Astarion's solar plexus and he gasped in shock. It was hot on his cold, undead skin, but didn't truly hurt. When the wax first hit his skin, there was a quick moment of pain which immediately fizzled out into a prickling feeling.

"Alright?" Gale asked, always checking in on him.

Astarion was almost at the verge of tears again. His lovers were always so attentive and respectful, and he'd almost screwed it up.

"Yes," he whispered. "Do it again."

Gale moved the candle slightly upwards and the next puddle of wax hit Astarion's sternum. The vampire spawn gasped again, shivering at the heat of it. He moaned when the wax hit his skin for the third time.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yes. Gods, just... give me more," panted Astarion.

The wizard hummed and carefully continued his work. The vampire spawn trembled beneath him, gasping or moaning each time the hot, melted wax hit his skin. Gale painted a random pattern, dripping the white wax all over his lover's torso. He left out certain areas, like the areolas and the belly button because they're too sensitive for it. Astarion revelled under the attention even though it wasn't his favourite thing. Suddenly, a stupid idea popped into his head, he still voiced it.

"Drip it on my dick."

"That's a terrible idea. That'll seriously burn you."

"Just do it. You can heal me afterwards."

"If you wish," muttered Gale and did as he was told.

When the hot wax hit the tip of Astarion's penis and started flowing down along his length, his mouth fell open in a guttural moan and his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Mmmh...oh, fuck..."

"It hurts, doesn't it?" the wizard stated worried.

"Yes, but no. In a way, but it also feels... good," groaned the vampire spawn, his member twitching as the wax started to cool and harden. "It - it's difficult to describe. Do it again."

"Astarion, I don't think that's –"

"Again. Please."

With a sigh, Gale complied. A string of hot wax drizzled over the tip of the penis again, slightly pooling in the slit before running down. The vampire spawn whined and bucked up. It felt so painfully good. Gale stared at him.

"You're getting... hard?" he asked in disbelief.

All Astarion could do was whimper and his member twitched in excitement. His eyes rolled back in his head again when wax hit his erection a third time.

"Oooh Gods!"

He trembled, surprised about teetering at the edge already again.

"I'm going to –"

His sentence ended in a shout as more hot wax dribbled over his length. His mouth fell open in a silent cry and his seeds spilled over, pushing the hardening wax away from the tip. The feeling had him moaning again.

"Most fascinating," mumbled Gale. "I didn't think you could come from this."

"Me neither," panted Astarion with a chuckle.

Gale's unfocused gaze wandered over his lover's wax-littered torso, lost in thought.

"Since your body's colder than a living being’s, you're more sensitive to heat, but only when it's in contact with your skin, not the temperature around you. You don't react this way to the summer heat."

"You're a genius," teased the vampire spawn. "I'm undead, darling. The weather conditions don't bother me, I neither sweat nor freeze."

"I know, but it's a rather peculiar phenomenon," muttered the wizard.

Astarion smirked, petting his husband's hair.

"Can you please focus on our bedroom activities again, darling?"

The addressed blinked and looked up.

"Of course. Apologies."

Gale kissed him gently, then, the vampire spawn smirked.

"Has your research provided you with more methods?"

"Yes, but..." The wizard blushed, averting his gaze. "I doubt you'll enjoy it. It's a rather unconventional, disgusting practice. I don't even want to tell you about it."

Astarion was intrigued by the mysteriousness.

"Do tell."

Gale swallowed and licked his lips.

"Well... it's uh... You like it when I... you know."

The vampire spawn raised an eyebrow questioningly and the wizard wanted to hide somewhere in embarrassment.

"You like it when I spill into you," he finally got out, turning crimson. "But no matter if I use a spell or not, the amount will never be enough to satisfy you. The method I found is... well... one empties one's bladder into one's partner."

Astarion's eyes widened.

"What?" he whispered.

Gale ducked and tried to hide in the sheets.

"It's disgusting, I know. I didn't want to tell you anyway."

"Wait, wait..." The vampire spawn's head was spinning. "You're telling me people pee into their partners?!"

"Yes," mumbled Gale into the blanket.

Astarion blinked, staring at the ceiling. How would that feel like? Being filled with a gush of hot urine. Disgusting, no question, but also... Astarion licked his lips. It would be incredibly warm and much more than a load of semen. He was surprised when a shiver ran down his spine and his member twitched at the thought.

"We could try it," he said lowly.

Gale stared at him in disbelief and suddenly, Astarion felt self-conscious and embarrassed.

"Are you sure? Do you really want to try?"

Biting his lip, the vampire spawn nodded. He would have blushed if that had been physical possible.

"If it's your wish, we can try," Gale told him. "Do you want to do it now?"

Astarion nodded hastily and pulled him into a sloppy kiss. Then, he asked: "Can you though?"

The wizard huffed a laugh, flustered.

"Well, it's morning and I haven't used the privy yet, so... my bladder's rather full."

"Let's do it then," the vampire spawn told him, sounding more confident than he was.

To his utter relief, Gale nodded and replied: "We better do this on the floor. It'll be messy."

Astarion attempted to stumble out of bed, but his lover held him back.

"Let me prepare you first," he said and placed a kiss on his cheek.

The wizard uttered a spell and the candle wax vanished from Astarion's body. The latter was thankful for it because the hardening wax was starting to tug uncomfortably on his skin when he moved. The vampire spawn handed him the lubricant and Gale carefully but efficiently opened him up with his fingers. The vampire spawn sighed and moaned at the gentle treatment. When the wizard finally deemed him ready, he retracted his fingers and placed a kiss on Astarion's erection. The latter rolled out of bed and got down on all fourth. He was so aroused and needy that he didn't feel ashamed anymore. Gale moved closer, pumping himself to full hardness, and positioned himself behind his lover. He bent down and kissed Astarion's tailbone.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," breathed the addressed.

"Ready?"

The vampire spawn nodded, biting his lips in anticipation. Gale kissed his scars first and only then pulled back to push into him. Astarion moaned lowly, closing his eyes blissfully. He loved to be filled by the wizard's cock who had the perfect length and girth. Gale started to move, leisurely thrusting into his partner, hitting his prostate every time. Other than usual, he didn't lean over the vampire spawn but kneeled with a straight back, watching how his member moved in and out of his lover's cold, greedy hole. Moaning lowly, the wizard grabbed onto Astarion's hips to hold him tight.

"Do you – Do you really want this?" he panted. "You have to tell me now, I can't stop later."

"Do it," moaned the vampire spawn. "I want to feel your heat inside me, please."

With a grunt, Gale bottomed out and climaxed, spilling into him, with his head thrown back. Astarion moaned, glutes flexing and trying to milk him dry. The wizard took a deep breath, let go, and started to pee into his lover. Astarion's eyes went wide when the hot urine flooded his cold body. His mouth dropped open in a loud, guttural cry, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he spilled his release onto the floor while the stream of liquid didn't seem to end. His body shook at the sudden warm rush, and he moaned and moaned, as he ass pulsed around Gale's cock.

"Yes... fuck..."

He felt his insides fill up for the first time in over two centuries (from the wrong end, but still), all hot, and so, so much. His eyes rolled again as he kept moaning and drooling onto the floor. Gale slowly rocked into him even though he wasn't hard anymore. Astarion felt the liquid slush around inside him and slightly trickle out and down his thighs, leaving hot traces behind. Whining, he flexed his glutes, hoping to keep as much as possible inside him. Gale moaned lowly at the movement and slowly pulled out. More urine gushed out and down Astarion legs who moaned at the feeling. He hadn't even known that such an act was possible – or practiced. For the first time in centuries, his body felt warm. He could die happy now.

Gale tenderly caressed his buttocks and asked: "How are you feeling?"

"Fantastic," slurred the vampire spawn. "It’s so warm and I'm so... full. Gods..."

"So... it's... good?"

"More than," Astarion moaned.

The wizard brought a hand around him, running it over his belly. Then, he gently pulled Astarion backwards until he was kneeling. The vampire spawn whined when more of the urine gushed out of him and soaked the floor under him, warm and wet.

"Oooh... shit..." he sobbed and trembled.

With a hum, Gale wrapped his arms around him and kissed his husband's neck while he stroke his gaunt belly.

"Are you warm now, Astarion?" he whispered. "Do you feel alive?"

"Yes," the addressed groaned, leaning more into his lover.

Gale chuckled and littered his neck with kisses. Astarion sighed, happy and sated. He had never felt this way before. They dwelled like this for a while, kneeling and embracing, with Gale kissing the vampire spawn's neck and caressing his abdomen while the latter rested his head against the wizard's shoulder. When the liquids started to cool and feel itchy on his skin, Astarion started to wiggle around uncomfortably. Gale cleaned them up with a spell, including the floor, and, instead of sex and urine, the room smelled faintly of lavender. Astarion sighed, turned his head and met Gale for a sweet kiss.

"Thank you for indulging me and my perversions."

"Anything for you."

They kissed again, then, they got up to move back to the bed.

"Oof, my knees are killing me," groaned the wizard and the vampire spawn snickered.

They lay down and cuddled close together. Smiling, Astarion brushed his fingers along Gale's clean-shaven jaw.

"You're getting old, my love."

The wizard stared at him wide-eyed.

"You never call me that before," he whispered and the vampire spawn frowned, concerned.

"I never called you what? Old?"

"My love."

"Oh..." Astarion blinked, surprised. "But, you are. You are my love."

"Astarion..." Gale was at the verge of tears and he hugged his husband.

"You know..." The vampire spawn looked at him. "For almost two centuries, I had to lure young, pretty things back to my master. What I wanted and felt never mattered. And now that I finally have a choice, I realised that I don't like young, pretty things. – Don't get me wrong, I am vain." He smirked a bit. "But my definition of beauty is different than Cazador's. The eye of the beholder and all that."

Astarion stroke Gale's hair, smiling softly.

"You're beautiful. The crow's feet and the lines on your forehead that get deeper with each year that passes. Your majestic hair that's turning more and more grey. Your body that finally gets softer again. I can't wait until you have a pudgy little belly and love handles."

At that, Gale snorted a laugh, but kept quiet otherwise.

"I love that you're growing out your hair. It suits you."

"Well, it's better than a beard," the wizard replied and, with a chuckle, he added: "Tara would be furious if I'd stop shaving again."

"And rightfully so," grinned the vampire spawn and kissed him again. "You know, you do look like your mother."

At that, Gale smiled brightly. Proudly, Astarion realised. He kept caressing his husband's face.

"Since we've met, you've aged and it's beautiful. Because it means that you survived and are alive. I'll never age, but I'm not into youth. I'm attracted to people who show signs of aging, and I can finally choose who I take to bed. – The same goes for Tav, you know? She's not a beauty, obviously, but I love the way her eyes sparkle when she's happy and how her beaming smile lights up a room. I love the freckles on her broad shoulders and her tiny, little breasts, and that she can pick me up with ease and carry me around like a princess. I love her and I love you, and I love that I can be by your sides while both of you age."

"You might change your mind in forty years when we'll be all saggy skin and wrinkles and smell like old people," said Gale softly, but the vampire spawn shook his head.

"No," he replied with a serious expression on his face. "No, I'll always love you, just the way you are."

Smiling, the wizard pulled him in for a kiss, pouring all his feelings into it.

"I love you too," he muttered against his husband's lips. "As long as I live, you won't get rid of me."

Astarion snickered, replying: "I never want to get rid of you, my love."

They stayed in bed, warm and cosy, lying in each other's arms, and trading kisses. For once, time went by without their contribution. Astarion and Gale simply dwelled in each other's company without a care in the world.

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littlefoxwithbighat · 10 months

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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 · 8 months

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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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hugemilkshake · 5 months

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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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alpydk · 7 months

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Cabinet of Oddities -Part 1 - TavxGale (Fanfic)

I have decided to jump on the actual story bandwagon with my changeling Nana (tav). Honestly, I love her too much so here is part 1

Summary: "Mamma, I believe that creature is a changeling: she is a perfect cabinet of oddities, but I should be dull without her; she amuses me a great deal more than you or Lucy Snowe." - Villette - Charlotte Brontë Nana is a changeling who has done an excellent job keeping this quiet. After spending her life alone she comes across a group of adventurers looking to save themselves from their new parasites. She follows after them, humouring herself with their remarks and eventually thinks, is being alone really worth it?

Ao3 Link

It had been two days since the changeling Nana woke up on the Sword Coast. Her head was spinning and body aching after the Nautiloid crashed. She could feel the tadpole twisting and turning in her skull and no matter the form she took, it was still there. “Well, this is certainly a new one.” she said out loud to herself. After living alone for so long, without conversation with others, talking to herself had become a regular occurance. Maybe she had gone a little mad over time or maybe she no longer cared about looking strange. Either way she’d been happy residing alone in her swamp, reading a journal for what seemed like the a millionth time, when suddenly she had found herself upon the mindflayer ship. The next thing she knew it was falling from the sky and she was clinging onto the edge of the pod by her fingertips.

Nana could not believe she was still alive. She ran her hands along her body looking for any signs of injury before looking around the area. “Elf?, check, human?, check, me?, check. That’s the important ones ready and able.” She morphed through various personas as she spoke. It was easy and natural to her as breathing. “Ok, let’s go!” she exclaimed before wandering along the coastline aimlessly. Bodies were scattered around, clearly victims of the crash. Her life had always been one of scavenging and hunting so checking for trinkets and supplies was nothing new, she just had to make sure they were dead first.

She would come upon a body and give it a kick with her boot first before then checking the pockets and any bags, making sure not to make eye contact with the corpse. People looking at her, no matter her form, had always made her feel uncomfortable. It was as if they knew what she was and they were trying to find her weakness. Too many times had she been hunted down, people believing the unfactual books, or confusing her with a doppelganger. This is what had driven her to a life of solitude, only appearing in more common forms to trade with the nearby villages.

She continued to trek for three more days before eventually coming across a band of adventurers. She watched them with great interest as they argued over different topics, Mindflayers, The Grove, spellings of names. How anyone could spell the name Will wrong, she didn't understand, but despite all this she continued to follow them. She had enjoyed watching people from afar for most of her life. She liked to assign them backstories. Was that elf secretly a spy? Or maybe that gnome was a cursed giant. She’d write in her journal all the conversations she’d observed and then play them out acting each part in a different form. Sometimes she would insert herself in the stories she made for them. Maybe she would marry a handsome knight or be saved from an evil wizard. It wasn't a lonely life, at least not in her eyes. Things were simply safer this way.

And so after seeing this strange party, she continued after them. Watching them, listening, writing down their conversations. I’ll say one thing for our troupe - we’re not short on drama. She enjoyed this individual the most. The one in the purple who spoke so elegantly. She liked the way his voice lilted up and down and how his face would scrunch when he was unimpressed with something. Her evenings were filled flicking back and forth between forms, one moment as this man and the next as a dark haired half elf.

“You seem to know a good deal about our condition, Gale.” The half-elf’s voice was all high and regal. Nana morphed quickly, her physical body changing to that of the human wizard and her voice altering, becoming deeper and more suave. “Everything, really - not to put too fine a point on it.” She changed back to the half-elf just as quickly with a smile on her face. “A humble specimen, aren't you?” She laughed at herself at the newfound amusement and turned back again. “On occasion.”

“These people are much more interesting than villagers,” Nana confirmed to herself. She knew that she would have to meet them. They had far too many stories amongst themselves and upon hearing how accepting they were of the vampire elf they had picked up, a very small hope rose up that maybe they would accept her too. She transformed herself into a human, braided her long blonde hair and armed with her preferred green eyes, she slowly approached the campsite.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #galemance #fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #changeling #dnd character #dnd #bg3 tav

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wondernoise · 1 year

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and love you shall find, ch. 1

Summary: Wilbur Soot, wizard and conman by trade, makes his life out of boardinghouses and the pockets of strangers at galas he hasn’t been invited to. He doesn’t keep still, he doesn’t remain attached, and it’s a rare occasion that he remembers to contact his father for anything beyond shopping lists of spell components. It’s a lifestyle he’s completely happy with.

Until mysteriously swapped packages leaves his soul — and those of nearly everyone he knows — suddenly and irrevocably bound to stolen baby dragons, sweeping them all up in a bitter struggle for power over the lands they call home and forcing Wilbur back to roost with Phil and Missa. Wilbur truly just wants Tallulah to be able to live and play music in peace, but with the secrets she seems to be keeping from him, the stranger reaching for the revivification spells Phil and Missa have wound from nothing, and crown prince Quackity’s attention on Wilbur and his daughter both, he may have to put everything he believes about himself and his family on the line to achieve it. Relationships: Wilbur & Tallulah & Quackity, as well as their family dynamic with Phil, Missa, and Chayanne. Queerplatonic deathduo. Also generalized QSMP Ensemble and their eggs, and a few hints of spiderbit :) Chapter Word Count: 5083 words A/N: my piece for @mcytblraufest! check out the gorgeous character designs by @ghostsgone-art as well, and many thanks to spencer and to @echotunes for the beta work!

Wilbur Soot is a dying man.

He knows it. The pounding in his head, which sends the lobby of the boardinghouse spinning with each pulse of agony, can’t mean anything less. It had finally defeated him halfway up the stairs to his room, leaving him curled limply against the railing. What a pitiful way to go—but he no longer has the energy to flee death’s jaws.

Against his temple, the rhythmic thump-thump of someone coming down the stairs. The landlady, unimpressed: “Enjoyed ourselves again last night, didn’t we?”

Wilbur opens his eyes enough to give her his most pitiful look, up from under his bangs. “I believe I’ve been poisoned, Miss,” he tells her. “Please, make sure my body gets home to my father.”

But he’s boarded here several times over the past decade—since he was a student—and had long since burned through all of her sympathy. “If you make a mess of my stairs you’ll be cleaning it yourself,” she informs him sternly, and then she’s gone. Wilbur exhales and lets his head fall back against the banister. He’s not going to make a mess. That was the point of sitting down until he was less dizzy.

He’s not sure where his guitar went. Hopefully it’s safe in his room. If he left her at the home of the friend he made last night, he’ll never see her again. But the small red gem he’d nicked from an upstairs display case while the revelry was at its peak is still burning a hole in his pocket. Never let it be said he doesn’t return on investments.

#mcytblraufest23 #qsmp #music duo #wilbur soot #qsmp tallulah #qsmp philza #summer.docx

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brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics · 10 months

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Fanfic - Desynced: Chapter 7

(Ao3 Here) (FF.net here)

Despite Sam’s stated refusal to work with them, and the vomit splashed on her shoes, the agents brought Sam outside rather gently. Sam wasn’t a small girl, but the agents were able to easily carry her outside. The rest of the student body was gathering outside of the school, but instead of bringing her towards them, they carried her over to a black van that was half parked on the school lawn.

The agents said something in sync, but despite Sam being right next to them, she couldn’t make out the words. A purple mist rose out of the ground around them, and Sam watched her classmates just look away from the agents.

The agent that wasn’t carrying her went up to the van, carrying Sam’s focus away from the mist and her classmates to the vehicle. Sam became aware that the side of the van was crumpled in, dented so deeply that the door was almost off its hinges. The agent reached up and grabbed the edges of the door, before yanking the door off the side with his bare hands.

The other agent gently set Sam down on the floor of the van, letting her legs dangle off the side. One agent handed the other a first aid kit before going back into the van. The first aid kit was opened and the agent put on some latex gloves before pulling out a set of pliers.

“You’re lucky,” the agent said, as he took Sam’s arm. “These seem superficial.” Sam winced as he pulled out a piece of fractured bone. She couldn’t help but notice that the bone was surprisingly clean. The agent seemed to think it was worth noticing as well, since he took a moment to inspect it before he set it aside on the lid of the first aid kit.

Sam felt her throat close up as she looked at herself, shards of bone stuck out all over her, looking more like shattered glass than anything else. Despite how much pain she should have been in, she couldn’t feel it. The adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her from noticing just how much damage had been dealt to her.

So it was with a strange detachment that she watched the agent pick out the bones that had been lodged into her skin. Blood had already seeped through much of her clothing, so the resulting open wounds didn’t seem to add much more. When the agent had finished with one of her arms, Sam gently rubbed the back of her head. “I… might have gotten a concussion.” She admitted.

The agents looked at each other through broken sunglasses, before going back to what they were doing. The one behind her made sounds of rummaging through drawers, while the other continued to pull pieces of bone out from her.

Tucker came jogging up to the three of them. “Sam!” He shouted, There was a fear in his voice she hadn’t heard in a while, or maybe it would be quite recently. One of the ghosts made cries in his voice after all.

The agents whirled on him, making him freeze in place, before they looked at each other and then at Sam, before finally looking back at Tucker. “If you weren’t aware of magic, you shouldn’t be seeing us…”

“Is that why everyone just… ignored you guys?” Tucker said looking back. Indeed, not a single person in the school seemed to be paying attention to them, going back to looking at the school.

“Yes…” The agent said, glancing between each other again and then focusing on Tucker. “Are you two friends of the Fenton family?”

“Yeah,” Tucker said, nodding. “Been so since I was a kid, and she joined me a couple years ago. Are they the only ones in town that also know about magic?”

Sam tried to shoot Tucker a glare, it was hard to do when her head was still spinning slightly. “Tucker, don’t talk to the cops.”

Tucker gave Sam a very unimpressed look. “Sam, the school just got attacked by a monster. I’m gonna talk to the wizard cops.”

The agents nodded and then went back to what they were doing, leaving it at that. One finishing up and bandaging Sam, before the other handed her a cup. There was steam rising from the cup, but there was no heat. The water was clear with the sheen of a rainbow in it. The liquid inside smelled divine. It smelled like death. It smelled of incense, and it smelled of…

“Is there weed in this?” Sam asked incredulously, as the smell hit her.

The agent gave a solemn nod. “Not much, but a bit, along with a host of other plants.” The agent who had bandaged her took off his shattered glasses and stared her right in the eye. “You were just at ground zero of a ghost attack, and you were severely injured. This tea will mitigate any damage done to your sanity due to the exposure.”

“Sanity?” Sam repeated.

“Magic has a way of… getting its barbs into you. Belief in magic makes you find it easier, but interacting with magic can get the attention of higher powers, and they are not good for humanity. Additionally, trauma has a way of cementing things in your mind, and this is a thing you do not want to remember.” The agent nodded at the drink. “Drink.” he ordered before the other agent handed him a cup as well.

Sam, despite herself, took a sip. It tasted vile, and pleasant. The two effects commingled on her tongue, causing a sharp pain that was easily ignored. Immediately, a gasp left Sam’s throat as something in her shifted. She felt her heartbeat begin to slow and the pain in the back of her head began to fade. She downed the rest of the cup, and she shivered as the panic she had felt began to just… melt away.

Leaving an uncomfortably warm buzzing feeling in the back of her mind, like a flame that smelt of burnt flesh.

“So… the solution to dealing with ghost attacks is to get high?” Tucker muttered.

The agents shook their heads. “Not quite,” they said, but they didn’t continue the thought.

Tucker looked between them. “Do you guys always talk as one or-” His statement was cut off as the squealing of car tires caught everyone’s attention. The Fenton family vehicle drove up as close as it could to the four of them. Maddie and Jack jumped out of the car and marched over to the agents.

When they got within fifteen feet, the student body just looked away from all of them. Maddie walked up to the closest agent and poked a finger into his chest. “You said you’d have wards, and you called us to tell us there was a ghost attack? This doesn’t seem warded to me!”

The agents shook their heads. “You’re right. The wards were tampered with.” Maddie stepped back, bumping into Jack behind her. “We checked our security system to see that they were still active, and at 7:30 this morning, the wards were damaged. The entity that did it was a shadow creature. We were on the way here to repair them when we were attacked.” The agents indicated themselves with a wave of a hand, or rather the bloodstains on them. “We were repairing ourselves when the secondary alarm went off informing us of the ghost attack.”

Sam, shivered as a heat passed through her, from the back of her head to the tips of her fingers. She shook her head as she frowned. “Was… was it the same black creature that saved me that did that?”

The adults all snapped their attention to her. Maddie looked down at the cup in Sam’s hand before gently prying it from her hands. She sniffed the cup and glanced at the agents. “Calming potion?”

The agents nodded. “She was at ground zero of the event, and she witnessed us casting flame magic.”

“Good lord,” Jack said, moving closer to look over her himself.

The agents straightened their backs and folded their arms. “These two aren’t inducted fully are they?”

Jack shook his head, before stepping between them and Tucker, shielding him from their eyes. “Hell no! Not even our kids are! We’ve told them enough to keep them safe, but we haven’t fully brought them in. They aren’t…” he groaned and rubbed his face. “They aren’t ready.”

“You think they’ll ever be ready?” The agents spat, and neither Fenton confirmed nor denied.

Maddie knelt down next to Sam. She gently reached over and squeezed Sam’s hand. “Sam, can you tell us what happened?”

Sam nodded. “I was in the classroom, and then I heard someone running outside of it. It was Danny, he pulled the fire alarm and then told Mr. Lancer to take us towards the school entrance.”

The agents titled their head appreciatively towards the Fentons. “Sounds like he felt something was wrong. Glad he trusted his gut.”

Sam thought for a moment, “Yeah, it felt off before he did that. It seemed like everyone was agitated.”

Maddie nodded and gave Sam a comforting squeeze. “Humans do have a bit of a sixth sense, we can sense if something is wrong. Danny shouldn’t have told you two about magic, but now that you’re aware of it, your sixth sense is sharper.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Tucker interrupted, “What do you mean Danny shouldn’t have told us?”

The agents were the ones who answered. “Like finds like,” they said, “magic exists, but magic keeps itself separate from the rest of the world. Now that you’re aware of magic, you’ll find it more often.”

“We should ask Danno what he sensed,” Jack said looking up. “Where is he? I thought he’d be fretting all over you?”

Tucker looked at Sam as he folded his arms, “I thought he was going to be over here too.”

Sam shook her head. “I… he was there. He warned me just before the bigger one hit me. I heard him yell.”

Jack and Maddie looked at the crowd. “Wait… is he still in there?” Jack whispered. The next moment the large man was sprinting across the lawn of the school and barreling through the school doors.

The agents clicked their tongues. “That’s more we’ll have to make them forget.”

Sam looked up at the agents, as Tucker took a step back. He tumbled over his words before finally repeating “Make them forget?” He looked them up and down, as if searching them for weapons, “Are you going to men in black them with magic?”

The agents shook their heads. “Ideally, no.”

Maddie reached over and touched Tucker’s back. “Magic can’t be used freely, Tucker. There’s a cost to it. Either in mind, or body.” The agents let out a huff of air from their noses as Maddie continued explaining, “Using magic to wipe memories leaves space for other things to crawl in.”

“There are natural ways of convincing people they didn’t see what they saw,” the agents acquiesced.

Sam tried to stand, but she still didn’t have the strength in her limbs to do so. “So you’re just going to gaslight them into believing this was like a gas leak or something?”

The agents turned toward Sam, “When the U.S Government does it, it’s called a cover up operation.”

Maddie sighed. “It’s for the best… unfortunately.”

Sam whirled toward her. “You’re hiding the truth from everyone?”

“Like finds like,” The agents repeated. “If the world at large knew about magic, more magic events would happen. Today is hopefully going to be just one of the worst days of your life. If magic wasn’t covered up as much as it was, it’d just be another Monday.” The agents looked down at Sam, fixing her on the spot. “You’d have everyone live through what you just did? Realize you’re lucky. Much worse could have happened to you.”

A vision of the gaping maw that almost swallowed her flashed in her mind. She shuddered and hugged herself.

Maddie knelt down. “What happened, sweetie?”

“One of them hit me, I… I don’t quite remember what happened, but when I came to, it was picking me up and putting me in its mouth.”

Tucker grasped his head with both hands, “It was going to eat you?”

“Eat implies consumption, and ghosts do not feed on matter,” the agents interjected.

“Not making me feel better!” Tucker snapped. The agents shifted slightly, their backs straightened and they tilted their heads in his direction. Tucker flinched at their movement and quickly apologized, “Er… sorry.”

The phantom smells of rotting meat assaulted Sam as she thought about what happened. The idea of the smell made her dry heave, and Maddie began to rub her back. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Agent O, why don’t you make yourself useful and make her another.”

The agent hesitated, “you know there are-”

“I’m aware there’s a risk, I wrote the damn paper!” Maddie cut him off. Nobody moved for a moment, before Maddie sighed, “My son’s friend just went through a very traumatic experience, I can argue the issue with you later, but right now I want you to bow to my expertise.”

The agents didn’t move at first, and Sam thought for a moment that they wouldn’t listen to her. Then they nodded and said, “Understood ma’am.”

Maddie let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” Maddie turned toward Sam. “How about this, describe the second creature to me.”

“It was… black, like blacker than black.”

Tucker chuckled. “Bet you thought that was cool.” The agents turned and gave Tucker a disappointed look and he coughed into his fist. “I’ll shut up now.”

“And it glowed, like there was a light coming off it, but… not really?” Maddie nodded as Agent O gave Sam another cup of what was apparently a potion. Sam sipped it and shuddered, but then she continued. “It had a bunch of bone structures on it, like along its back and on its hands and feet.”

The agents looked at each other, the motion catching Sam’s eye. She looked up at them, making Maddie become aware that they were having a conversation with each other. The agents turned and looked at the two of them. “That… is not the description of the entity that destroyed the wards.”

Maddie’s face paled and she ran a hand down her face. “You’re telling me, there are four magical entities in our town?”

“No,” The agents said, shaking their heads. “There are five.”

“Five? You’ve got to be joking!” Maddie shouted.

“Ma’am, is our agency known for our humor?”

Maddie grabbed the cup out of Sam’s hand and downed it herself.

***

When Danny became aware of himself, it was to the sound of a voice shouting his name. He blinked away the darkness that was clouding his vision before realizing he was lying on his stomach. He tried to move, but he felt something digging into his back. He had enough room to turn, and he could see that there were pieces of concrete and bricks floating a foot above him. With a heave, he pushed himself off the ground and the debris fell away.

“Danny!” Danny turned to see his Dad running down the hall. “Danny, are you okay?”

“I… I think so?” Danny answered, trying to put as much confidence into the statement as he could. It was hard to do when he realized he couldn’t remember what he had been doing. He remembered seeing Sam get hit and then…

He looked around and ran a hand down his face. He felt a wetness on his face and his hand came away slick with blood. “Oh…”

Jack tentatively took his son’s face in his hand. “I think it looks worse than it is. You got a cut on your forehead, those bleed like crazy.” He chuckled a bit as he brushed off Danny’s shoulders. “You gotta keep an eye out to avoid all of this head trauma if you wanna be an astronaut.”

“Believe me, I’m trying.”

Jack looked around. “What were you doing around here anyways? Why didn’t you leave with the other students?”

Danny opened his mouth to respond, but he hesitated. He couldn’t actually remember. “I… I was going back to find the containment thing you and mom made. The thermos?” Jack began to frown as Danny continued, “I was going to get it, and then I saw Sam about to get attacked, and then…” Danny indicated the wall next to him, or rather the lack of wall.

The school was probably gonna have to get closed for repairs again.

Jack twitched as he took all that in. He made several aborted sounds before finally saying, “Wait, Danny, were you knocked out?”

“Yeah, I-”

Danny didn’t get to finish the statement. Immediately, Jack scooped him up into his arms. “Come on,” he said, as if Danny had a choice while being carried. “The D.o.E agents are outside. They have better materials for first aid.”

“Dad, I feel fine.”

“You were knocked unconscious. You are getting checked out.” Jack’s tone was final and left no room for argument. Danny sighed and resolved himself to be carried out of the school. He grimaced when Jack came out of the school and the entire school saw Danny being carried like a princess.

Mr. Lancer’s eyes widened and he moved to step toward them, but Jack blew right on past him. Mr. Lancer followed for a moment, but when the two of them approached the agents his face fell into a confused frown. He then turned away without saying a word.

Jack put Danny down next to Sam and turned toward Agent K. “He got knocked unconscious,” Jack explained. Immediately the agent began to inspect Danny, pulling a wipe out from his first aid kit to clean away the blood. “I found him on the first floor.”

Sam frowned and looked at Danny, “But we had been on the second floor?”

“He’s fine…” The agent said, confusion leaking into his voice. He looked down at the wet wipe that was now dyed red. “There’s not a scratch on him.” The agents then looked at the side of Danny’s head, which hadn’t yet grown in new hair.

“Your last head wound disappeared as well…” Maddie whispered, her eyes began to water as she reached out to Danny.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Danny offered.

“No, no it isn’t.” The agents said stepping away from Danny to let his parents crowd him. “This sounds like magic, and all magic has costs.”

Maddie hiccuped as tears began to fall down her face. “We’ll… we’ll run some tests, when we get home, maybe the accident infused you with-”

Danny interrupted his mother. “No, mom, you guys need to figure out the portal!” He ran his hand through his hair. “That’s more important!”

“No, sweetie, you’re more important.”

Sam fixed Danny with a look. “You really should be taking better care of yourself.”

Danny chewed on his lip, before looking at the agents. “Ever since that thing turned on, we’ve seen two ghosts show up. I’ve never once even heard of a ghost like this, and my parents are magic researchers. Their job is to study this stuff. You tell me, what’s more important? Me having some magic healing? Or the fact that we apparently have a couple of ghosts in town?”

The agents nodded. “Your son is right. We’ve now seen five magical entities in this town. With the twenty seven units stationed in this state, two new entities a year is considered a lot.”

Tucker held up a hand. “Out of curiosity, why twenty-seven? That seems like an odd number.”

The agents didn’t even give Tucker a glance. “One for every letter in the alphabet.”

“But there’s twenty-six?” Tucker said, quickly counting on his fingers double checking himself.

“You’re in the know on magic now.” Tucker looked up at the agents, who still hadn’t glanced at him.

“What the…” Tucker whispered.

“Most of our agency’s resources are dedicated to maintaining wards and preventing these events from happening. There is definitely something wrong in this town, and it started the moment your portal started working.” The agents looked at Jack and Maddie. “It might not be directly related, but it is concerning.”

Maddie opened her mouth to respond, but Jack cut in. “We want a grant, and additional man-power.” He stated firmly. “I’d rather be investigating what’s happening with my son, so we’d like some assistance figuring out what exactly is on the other side of that portal, and how to shut it down.”

The agents nodded. “Agent A and Agent B should be arriving today. Agent C and Agent E will arrive within the next couple days. If you need more than us six, we’ll accommodate that.”

Tucker hummed. “What happened to Agent D?”

“Ate by a ghoul.”

Tucker looked up at the sky. “I’m gonna just… shut up again.”

There was a sound of radio static before a voice rang out from the car. “Agent O, Agent K, are you viable? Over.”

Agent O reached into the front seat and pulled out a walkie-talkie. “We survived the event. Where is your location?”

There was a burst of static again as the agents on the other side responded, “We’re at the Fenton residence. Are the Fenton’s with you?”

“Yes, we’ll be there shortly to begin assistance with the investigation.”

“Negative. Keep an eye on the Fentons. An entity left signs of an attack here.”

#danny phantom #dp fic #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #Hazafic #ectoimplosion2023 #cw: gore #gore #cw: body horror #body horror

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