#the old guild files

[bluemooncove]

The streets of the town were shockingly empty. Even having little experience outside the estate, Beauty found it to be unnerving. The empty streets and peoples buildings made it clear that far more were meant to live here than there were. It felt abandoned. She attempted to ask Ser Nikolayevich about this but he was silent. Silent for the entire journey.

Eventually they arrived at the bookshop they'd been sent to. A rather quiet looking shop on a near deserted street. There had been a sign out front of an abandoned building indicating it had once been an apothecary. Boards covered its doors and a sign in front of them declared he'd gone to aid the crusaders. Her ability to read was necessary to tend to more and more of the affairs of her master as they were heft upon her, but it also provided an ability to better understand the world around her. People were leaving town. Whatever this crusade was, it was important.

She entered the shop, her watcher followed inside but chose to wait near the door. Despite the small size of the shop, the rows and rows of shelves formed a labyrinth inside. Seems he didn't want her slipping around and escaping out the only exit. Clever! She would have tried.

The purchase was easy enough. The graf had given her just the amount of coins necessary. The shopkeeper did not say much and seemed to want her out of the shop quickly. Something about not knowing who could serve the Daemons now. It was as she slipped back into the twisting maze of books that her only trouble occurred.

It had seemed empty in the shop but as fate would have it they were not alone. As she neared the last turn to exit the palace of books another figure slammed into her. One carrying an enormous stack of books making it impossible to see. It was a woman, notably shorter than she was, who toppled over with an ~ oomph. The books that each carried tumbled to the floor, Beauty's mixing in with a number of others. She knelt to try and help the other.

The woman looked up at her. Shock burst across the short woman's face as she saw the collar and tattoos that marked the other as Count Graf's slave. Before any of the books were retrieved the stranger was handing her own book back to her.

"Oh dearest me ~ you must already be worked hard enough. Here let me get this for you. You don't gotta help little old me."

Without giving her a chance to protest the woman had forced the book on medicinal herbs back into her hand. Ser Nikolayevich had heard the commotion and arrived just as the lady began picking up her own books. The knight gave an apology to that woman, grabbed his quarry by the arm, and guided her out the door. Soon they were back at the graf's estate.

"What is this?"

It was only after returning to her chamber to study that she discovered something. That redheaded woman had slipped another book into her own. A slim one that was a guide to alchemical magic. A guide to magical makeups and perfumes. Was this a lucky twist of fate or an intentional gift? Whatever the case, it seemed promising.

[dpraved]

a couple of eidens and kuyas from my awful and wretched sketch files

[nofollowgame]

You're Crashing But You're No Int*rnet Expl*rer

🔶 You can now play No Follow :: File #000009 :: Browser game about the internet of yore & w/e else

🔶 File Synopsis :: You forgot to write the file synopsis, so this blog post you found will have to do: "YAYYY i logged in!!! i just met a weird lady named SPiDER wen i was lookin 4 teh mall n she gave me a ~fancy~ layout 4 my site but shhh i didnt use it yet… x.X"

🔶 Or play from the beginning

[vigilantsera]

Transitioning on Ravnica: A Guide

Introduction

Ravnica, the city of guilds. Of all the planes on which to be trans, it is perhaps the one with the widest variety of options on how to transition. Indeed, each of the guilds seems to have their own preferred method by which their members (or guildless with enough coin) can become their true selves. But if transitioning is your aim, or if you are unaffiliated and seeking guidance, which guild should you join? We walk through the most common process each guild’s members use to transition below:

The Azorius Senate

Widely considered the most boring of the guilds to transition with, the process for the Azorius Senate does indeed largely consist of filing a large number of forms. In some jurisdictions, assessments by mind-mages are required to assess if the applicant is ‘truly in need of gender correction’, though these practices have been made unnecessary in most districts as of now.

Most applicants hoping to change their gender with the senate will find themselves having to file the needed forms multiple times to correct minor procedural errors, paying additional filing fees and correction fines each time (the Azorius often give the Orzhov a run for their money in this department). As such, the speed and smoothness of the transition process with the Azorius is in many regards a matter of the skill of the applicant (or their assistant, hired or otherwise) in navigating the endless bureaucracy of the senate.

However, transitioning with the Azorius does have several upsides, contrary to the popular view of them being the worst guild to transition with. For one, the forms by which one applies to revise their gender double as forms by which to amend any unwanted element of one’s body, and if one knows the proper procedure, one can sculpt their ideal body using their process down to precise elements. This is a far cry from most of the other guilds, where one’s post-transition body will often be quite similar to their old one or have a somewhat random element to how it turns out.

Furthermore, though the process of obtaining, correctly filling out, and waiting for the forms to be filed does often take months, once approval is obtained, the actual process of ‘correction of applicant’s misaligned bodily attributes’ is performed instantaneously via magical decree.

House Dimir

The Dimir are perhaps the most efficient and effective at changing one’s gender of all the guilds. They have mastered countless methods of shaping one’s appearance – illusory, transformative, temporary, permanent, magical, alchemical, and countless more besides. Though their methods were devised originally largely for the purpose of disguising oneself, they know quite well that there are those who seek them for personal reasons more than professional ones.

It is even rumored that for those of the genderfluid persuasion, or who simply enjoy flexibility of expression, that they possess methods to transform someone of any origin into a shapeshifter capable of near-instantly rearranging one’s body precisely and at will.

If they have such skill and magic, why then are they not the definitive go-to for all trans Ravnicans? Well, the answer is quite simply that the Dimir are loathe to part with their secrets, and even more loathe to surrender something of value for less than its worth. They will use their methods to allow those outside their guild to transition, to be certain… if the one who seeks their favor can pay the price.

Over the centuries, countless guild secrets have been surrendered, and many an aspiring trans person conscripted into spy work and other clandestine missions in exchange for the Dimir’s gifts of transformation. Interestingly, it is thought by some that this may be at least partially responsible for the fact that each guild has developed their own paths to transition – so that those seeking to realize their gender have options besides betraying their home guilds to the Dimir. Still, the speed and comprehensiveness of the Dimir’s methods still draw in the curious even in this more enlightened modern age….

The Cult of Rakdos

Known by many as the ‘murder clown orgy’ cult, the Rakdos of course have more than a few ways to change one’s gender. The two most widely known and commonly used will be described here.

First is the way most commonly seen by those outside the cult’s membership, as it is a frequent ‘party trick’ of sorts at their gatherings. This method involves ‘cursing’ someone to shift into the form of the greatest sexual fantasy of another linked person. Though the ‘safe’ version of this spell links the cursed to a specific other person, other variants link the cursed’s appearance shift to the most amorous person viewing them at the moment, the last person to touch them, or the person in the world most attracted to them.

This can involve the ‘cursed’ person’s gender to shift if the fantasy of the linked person is of someone of a different sex than them. Normally, this curse is intended to be temporary, used for a wild night of debauchery and nothing more, but permanent variations exist, and aside from that the curse seems to have a habit of ‘sticking’ to people who enjoy the new bodies it thrusts them into.

Like most things the Rakdos create, while this ‘curse’ is not seen as such by many who it is cast upon, it obviously has a lot of potential for misuse, and even when used ‘properly’, can sometimes shift not just the physical body but the actual gender identity of the cursed, causing them to see themselves as the gender of the body they have been made to inhabit, even if they were happy with their body before. As such, this curse is best used with caution, though given where it comes from, it almost never is.

The second most common method of transition is largely reserved for actual cult members and is quite a bit different than the curse described above. This form of transition is done via an enchanted ritual dagger, and most commonly performed in a fittingly ritualistic fashion. The person who wishes to change themselves is restrained on a table while a cultist wielding the enchanted dagger asks them to renounce the aspects of their body they wish to be rid of. Though commonly performed with an audience (as voyeurism is quite prevalent among the Rakdos), it can and is often done in a more intimate one on one setting.

In any case, the process is quite gruesome on the surface. The enchanted dagger is used to carve away the unwanted parts of the body, literally slicing off genitals, secondary sex characteristics, and carving into the skin where changes are to be made. Though intensely painful, the enchantment on the dagger is that of healing, and as the flesh is parted, it regenerates swiftly into the form of the desired sex. A severed penis will grow a fully healthy and functional vagina in its place, sliced off breasts will reform into a masculine chest, cuts along the face will soften or harden the flesh as it regrows, and the like. A sublime torment that ends in a newly idealized form, born in a ritual of blood.

The Gruul Clans

The Gruul clans, despite their reputation as uncivilized barbarians, by and large have fairly enlightened views on gender. Many in the clans see gender as what it is – a societal construct, and laugh in the face of gender norms and the rigid views many others have on the subject.

As such, quite a few in the clans transition socially only, not feeling the need to change anything about their bodies to feel confident that they are the gender they feel.

That said, for those Gruul who do desire to change themselves physically to match their gender identity, options exist. Perhaps the most common is going to clan shamans who prepare alchemical treatments from herbs, which change the body over the course of a few months. This is essentially the same treatment commonly used by the Selesnya, despite the specifics of the preparations varying somewhat.

The other method some clans use is the trial of the true form. Using a spirit-calling spell, shamans transform an aspirant into a being closer to the spirit seen as closest to them. Typically, this is some sort of animal or beast. Though temporary, when one reverts to their original form after the trial is completed, aspects of their ‘true form’ remain – often animalistic features, but for trans people, this commonly includes a full (or at least partial) transition of their sex characteristics in line with their true gender.

The Selesnya Conclave

The Selesnya take a very open and accepting view to gender and encourage those in the conclave to explore their presentation and meditate on what they desire even from a fairly young age. Those who decide they wish to change their bodies in alignment with their thoughts are given one of a wide variety of herbal alchemical concoctions which, when taken over the course of a few months, alters the body towards different sex characteristics.

Those undergoing this process are not simply given the way to change their bodies, however, and the Selesnya place a large emphasis on the social aspect of transition as well. Those in the conclave who transition commonly find themselves a mentor who will guide them on how to socialize as their new gender.

Though the Selesnya are very free with their resources to physically transition, their attitudes also interestingly lead to their ranks containing many who choose to transition solely through social means, or in only minor physical ways. Conclave members often ask the pronouns of those they meet, and are somewhat famous among other guilds for their members using a wide variety of neopronouns rarely seen in the other guilds, especially not in as large of numbers.

Overall, the Selesnya are one of the guilds most freely accepting of trans people, and are a common choice for guildless, as they offer their herbal remedies and guidance freely to any who come to them. The subtle price of course, is having to listen to their recruitment pitch to join their guild, but despite general social pressure, they don’t make any more insistent demands of those who transition with them.

The Orzhov Syndicate

Syndicate members in high standing often have the money to pursue transition through other guilds that meet their specific needs. The services of both the Dimir and Azorius are popular, as both are efficient, customizable experiences whose main issues are access and money, both of which the Orzhov elite have in spades.

That said, there are two methods of transition unique to the Orzhov, though they are unpopular among the elite for reasons that will become clear.

The first is through so-called ‘total possession’. Though the Orzhov deal frequently with ghosts and possession is a rather common occurrence, total possession is a more involved affair. This involves a ghost completely taking over a person’s mind and going so far as to reshape their body as well. Most commonly, they reshape their host into the form the ghost had in life (though often somewhat idealized). This can of course can be a fairly drastic change when the host is a different gender than the ghost.

Now, obviously this is an ineffective method of transition as long as the ghost remains in control, but using it as a method of transition involves allowing the ghost to reach full possession, to reshape the body into the desired form, and then to exercise them. As this involves the host losing control of their body for some time, not getting much if any control over their final form (unless they called a specific ghost whose living form they wished to look like) and then relying on an outside exorcist, it is considered a risky method of transition at best.

The other method of Orzhov-specific transition is known as ‘soul reshaping’. If someone has given their soul over in debt to another, that new holder of the soul, if they know the right spells, can reshape the soul of the one they hold in thrall to whatever they want. This can be extreme – often being used to make the subject’s mind pliable and obedient and to twist their body into a thrull or other pitiable being.

However, it is certainly possible that a kind soul-holder might reshape someone’s soul so that it fits more with what they view themselves as, with their body soon following suit. In cases where a trans person’s soul is held this way, their soul is usually already ‘shaped’ closer to their desired gender anyway (in such a way as a soul can be said to have a shape) and thus the actual effort needed on the soul-holder’s part is minimal.

Like total possession, the fact that this method of transition requires surrendering oneself fully to another makes it all but unheard of among those with other options, but it is a frequent dream of the highly indebted and the desperate.

The Izzet League

The Izzet league is famous for their odd experiments and outlandish inventions, which might lead one to believe that they’d have a wide range of options for those seeking to change their gender. And in a way, that’s not entirely wrong. But the thing to remember is that it is the Simic Combine who focus more on the biological side of experimentation, meaning that options within the Izzet tend to be less varied than one might expect.

Now, given the highly individualized and experimental nature of the league’s countless inventors and mages, likely there are a dizzying array of unique and one-off devices capable of altering one’s body to fit their gender identity. However, we will focus here on the two methods most commonly found that can perform this effect – both of which are quite effective, so long as you don’t care about remaining humanoid.

The first method is the ‘weird’ method. Weirds are ooze-like elemental creations, and the Izzet are (usually) quite good at making them. Transferring one’s mind into a weird, whose body can then be fluidly reshaped to fit whatever gender presentation one desires, is a well-trodden field of Izzet research, which isn’t to say it doesn’t often go wrong in unpredictable ways, but that’s true of basically anything the Izzet work on.

Similarly in the field of mind transfer, uploading one’s consciousness into a robotic construct body, while not extremely popular, is also a burgeoning field of Izzet research. One could sculpt their own ideal construct body in advance this way, and then live out their life outside of humanity, upgrading or changing things as desired.

The Golgari Swarm

The swarm are an interesting situation when it comes to transition resources. As the guild in charge of handling Ravnica’s trash and refuse, they often come across the methods to cobble together close-enough facsimiles of the methods that every other guild uses in their transition methods and rituals, and it is through these second-hand acquisitions that many members of the swarm make their transitions.

The swarm’s primary unique method of transition comes from specially grown fungi. Similar to the herbal transition methods of the Gruul or Selesnya, these fungi alter one’s physical body towards another gender expression. However, unlike those methods which produce a gradual change across several months, the fungi of the Golgari take effect after just a few doses. This rapid shift is accompanied by intense pain and vivid hallucinations, though those who utilize this method often say that they see both the pain and the visions as important steps not just towards a body they can feel more comfortable in, but towards self-acceptance and the abandonment of fears over not ‘truly’ being their desired gender.

The other method of transition within the swarm is through the sting of the shifter wasp. A single sting from this creature causes a total shift of sexual characteristics over a single agonizing day. The wasps are rare however, and the pain is not always survivable, making this a method seen as dangerous and undesirable. It is also one of the few on Ravnica that is commonly inflicted on the unwary and unwilling. Fortunately, there are many ways to alter one’s body back to what it originally was if one finds oneself transitioned against their will.

The Boros Legion

The Boros are perhaps one of the least interested in the process of transition. They aren’t against it, per se, and it is legion policy to treat all as they wish to be treated, a policy actually enforced and with harsh punishments for violation to boot.

That said, legionaries seeking transition often go outside the guild to obtain the transition services of another guild, something the Boros do allow, if not openly encourage. That said, there is an ‘official’ method of transition within the guild, but due to the legion’s practical, militaristic focus, it is quite specific and comes with certain requirements, to which it owes its relative unpopularity.

Despite being egalitarian in their overall forces, official Boros transition resources are split into two distinct paths for female to male and male to female. There is no official Boros resource for nonbinary members, who typically just seek the services of another guild.

Legionnaires who wish to transition from female to male within the Boros go to minotaur program. This program involves drinking a volatile potion brewed from minotaur blood and bottled lightning which transforms one into a male minotaur. As a side effect, the drinker often goes temporarily berserk, but this is a known side-effect and usually well-handled. The potion is somewhat difficult to make, and as a result, those who take this method of transition are typically conscripted into a specialized unit for a period of time as ‘compensation’ for their use of the potion.

The process for legionnaires wishing to transition for male to female also involves a transformation, but this time and even more drastic one. Only a few legionnaires every year are eligible for this process, an honor often reserved only for the most elite and successful soldiers. The process involves being turned into an angel – and, as some know, the angels of the Boros are all clones of the original angel, Razia. As a result, the transformation necessarily involves taking on the physical characteristics of a female, red-haired angel, rippling with muscles and infused with powerful magic.

Like the minotaur program, the transformation into an angel (often referred to as ‘ascension’) can come with mental side-effects though in this case they tend to be more severe, with new angels often finding their mindset shifting to become more practical, focused, and emotionally detached, save for the emotions needed for battle.

The exact process used for ascension is a closely guarded Boros secret, but it is known that it is fairly extensive – certainly much more than the potion required for becoming a minotaur. Persistent rumors, likely spread by the Dimir, say that the hopeful ascendant’s body is slowly burned away by holy flame and remade by the songs of existing angels. Though new angels are sworn to secrecy on the process, their defensiveness over accusations towards the process working that way seem to imply it is at the very least, close to the truth.

The Simic Combine

The Simic Combine is famous for their bioengineering, and of course, this means that altering a body to fit one’s desired gender is trivial for them.

The combine see transition as something desirable, and many in the Simic transition just to see what its like even if its not a deeply held desire of theirs. Transitioning with the Simic often comes with other body modifications (or 'upgrades' as they more commonly refer to them) and so most trans people in the Simic are also sporting gills, claws, and any number of other exotic features in addition to their new gender expression.

Ironically, despite their well-honed mastery of the art of transition and the stunning array of ‘extras’ they have on offer, the Simic are rarely sought out as a path to transition by those outside the guild, as they have a bad habit of including ‘unwanted additions’ in the form of experimental biogenetic alterations to those outside their guild. That said, those who seek to transcend not only their gender but their humanity often see the Simic as their saviors, and the Simic certainly has no shortage of members willing to perform changes for free to those willing to participate in a few experiments along the way.

[planchettewrites]

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)/AFAB!Reader

DESCRIPTION: You find out about Bella Donna Boudreaux, and you are not happy about it.

CONTENT: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Threats of Breakup, Mentions Remy's Past (*Using the Original X-Men Animation Series as Ref.)

A/N: This is not my favorite Remy work I've done, but I think it's still pretty good. This is pretty heavy hurt/comfort, and the ending is a little rushed. TBH I wanted to just write this and get it over with. WIPs can only have such a long shelf life! I may eventually update this later.

848 words | Safe!

"Remy…" You walked cautiously into your and Remy's shared bedroom in his apartment near the school, anger bubbling inside you. In your hand, you held a letter from some woman named Bella Donna Boudreaux. The letter was old, at least five years old. You found it while cleaning out one of Remy's closets, finding it in a box on the top shelf when it came tumbling out of the closet. "What is this?"

Remy, who was reading, immediately shot up. His black and red eyes looked at you with so much shock. He looked like a man who got caught. “Ma chérie,” he started.

"What is this, Remy?" you shot, effectively cutting him off. "Who the fuck is Bella Donna Boudreaux?"

"Chérie, it's not what you think." Remy stood up from the bed and began slowly approaching you. 

You weren't stupid; you could read what the letter said, and that letter painted a rather different story than your current reality. "I think it's exactly what I think, Remy. What the hell does 'I'll forever be your wife' mean, then? Remy, we've been dating for three years, and this letter is five years old. Are you married?" you roared, your anger almost unmanageable. 

Your mind was racing with every possible answer that Remy could've given you, and none of them were positive explanations. Your relationship with Remy was the best you ever had; he was kind, generous, and giving, and overall, he was a spectacular partner who always put your needs first. You loved Remy more than you could fathom; this letter was heartbreaking.

Before he could answer, you began to read some of the letter to him. "Remy, mon amour, I miss you every day. Every day you are gone is like a stab in the heart. I still remember the day I last saw you; you looked handsome as ever, mon cœur." you stopped reading the letter and threw it on the bed. "What the fuck is this?"

"Darlin', that's all old history, Bella Donna is…"

"Your wife, apparently, Remy." you began to tear up. Nothing shattered your heart like reading that letter did. You had read through the entire thing before you confronted your boyfriend, and you knew a love letter when you read one. You started shaking your head, putting your palm up to your forehead. "I can't fucking believe this."

Without even noticing, he got closer, Remy turned you around and gently pulled your hand from your head. His face portrayed an emotion of hurt. As much as you wanted to scream at him, tear him apart, something in you knew that he had some proper explaining to do. "Darlin', listen to me. Please."

You sighed roughly, continuing to shake your head. "Fine. You better have a great explanation for this, Remy. Or I'm done."

He sighs. Remy knew this day would come eventually—whether it be when filing for marriage paperwork or when his past eventually bubbled up to the surface. If he was honest with himself, he completely forgot about that letter; it was shoved in that box with the rest of his past in the Thieves's Guild. Looking at you, his heart was breaking. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you. 

"Well, darlin', it starts back in New Orleans. The long and the short of it is that Bella Donna Boudreaux was a member of the Assassin's Guild, and I was a member of the Thieves's Guild. We were arranged to be married in an attempt to unite the guilds. Gambit didn't love her, so he walked away from the altar. Bella Donna wrote me that letter as a last-ditch effort to get me back. I don't know how she even found my address, but she sent it. I forgot that I even kept it. I promise I didn't marry her, mon amour. I don't love her. My heart does not belong to another; it only belongs to you." He held you steady in front of him, and he watched how the tears forming in your eyes began to roll down your cheeks. 

Remy pulled you into a tight hug as you cried. "Shh, don't cry, chérie, Gambit's right here."

"Don't ever fucking scare me like that." you cried. Right now, you hated yourself. There was no way you could deny what you read, but you trusted your boyfriend with every word he said. Remy wasn't one to tell you a lie. Ever since you began dating, he has been nothing but honest and upfront with all that he said. "M’sorry, Remy. I'm really sorry."

Gently letting go of you, Remy cupped your cheeks and placed a kiss on your forehead. "No reason to apologize, mon amour. You were scared, and that situation seemed nasty. I understand."

"I was just so worried that you were keeping something from me, especially something that would change our relationship."

"I know, chérie, I know." He cooed, pulling you back into the hug. 

You sighed, letting the anxiety go. “Please forgive me.”

He smiled. “Gambit forgives ya’, chérie. Of course I do.”

[olibheare]

Another old pull from around 2017-2018 before heading to college. Since the comics were largely a way to practice drawing anatomy and backgrounds I really tried to focus on the environments as useful to characters if they actually needed to live in this space. I also 3D modeled 2 of the guild rooms in Blender and used them for classes (I might dig those up later but I'm too lazy to find the files). So behold my massive red string board of references and callouts. I'm really happy with how the interiors turned out- I really like designing believable adventurer's spaces. This was by far the thing I was most proud of so it's a shame that we never saw Treasure Town in the actual comic.

[pennyblossom-meta]

Gale/Wyll banter

Here's a collection of Gale/Wyll banter that I found in the dialogue files. I hope this is useful as both fanfiction resources and general curiosity :)

Help: I'm fairly sure there's a line from Wyll (?) mentioning how Gale doesn't ever eat vegetables, but for the life of me I can't find it. UPDATE 30/12/2023: Found it and added it to the post, the banter happens with the MC during the tiefling party. Also added a couple more interesting tidbits of dialogue.

Warning: long post.

Act 01

Loss of powers

Wyll points out that he used to kill big monsters, and now a few goblins are a challenge. What gives? Gale remarks it must be the tadpole. Wyll: Was a time I tussled with hill giants without breaking a sweat. Wyll: Now, a mere werebear could swat me halfway to Amn. devnote: Amn = city on the Sword Coast. Pronounced "AAHM" like UK Eng "arm". Gale: Strange things are happening to us. What festers in our minds may well impel our bodies.

—

Netherese magic

Wyll recalls the hag said 'Netherese' and asks Gale what he knows. Astarion adds a thought if he is present. Wyll: Ethel mentioned Netherese magic. What in blazes does that mean? Gale: Magic from the fallen empire of Netheril. Ancient, exceedingly dangerous, and quite unrivalled. Astarion: Wonderful! I'd hate to be destroyed by any common old magic. devnote: A little sarcastic. You've been told the dangerous magic inside you is ancient and unrivalled

—

Goblin raids

Wyll: I've known goblin raiders to slaughter entire villages and strip them for loot - but I've never seen one ravaged like this. Gale: It's hard to imagine anyone who'd willingly inflict such devastation, be they zealots, marauders, invading armies... A sign of far worse to come, I fear.

—

Act 02

Mountain Pass

Gale: These cragged hillls make for weary soles. I see why most headed inland prefer the smooth sailing of the Chionthar. Wyll: More importantly, the land west of here suffers under a terrible curse. Gale: You've seen it for yourself? Wyll: I've glimpsed that doom during my travels, but never dared get close. Wyll: If we continue this way, we may get too close for comfort.

—

Scary woods

Wyll: What a dismal forest. Monsters could be lurking behind any and every tree. Gale: We'd be wise to fear the trees themselves. It feels like the forest itself longs for our destruction. devnote: serious Wyll: Frustrating, that. Wyll: Monsters, I can fight. But I can no more sever these shadows than I could the wind or the sun.

—

Approaching Moonrise

Gale: Moonrise Towers lies ahead. We're nearing the Heart of the Absolute, I'm certain of it. Wyll: Then let us push forward, heads high, weapons in hand, and turn this tower to rubble. Gale: Your confidence is encouraging but a little premature. Let's keep our eyes on the task ahead. Or eye, as the case may be.

—

Tollhouse

Gale: A tollhouse like this would only be merited in the most prosperous of settlements. This was once a thriving trade route. Wyll: Should it be any wonder? The Chionthar's waters carry merchant vessels from as far east as Berdusk. devnote: bur-DUSK Wyll: And they wouldn't have brought just trade goods, but song, dance, and custom. Riches of the mind and the spirit. Wyll: So much was lost when the darkness fell.

—

At the Mason's Guild

Gale: The masons here thought they were building something to last. How wrong they were. Wyll: Perhaps it's a blessing that none of them survived to see it fall to the shadows. Gale: No need for such a grim assumption. Halsin helped many to escape these shadows before the town was consumed. Wyll: Then some masons were more blessed still, if they could put their talents to use elsewhere. Wyll: Perhaps some of their work even graces Baldur's Gate.

—

Guildhall

Wyll: It might seem a bit ramshackle, but this place has a boastworthy bar. Gale: A bar is only as good as its cellars. Which vintages can we expect to find on their racks? devnote: Anticipating a nice drink Wyll: Here, a bottle is judged more by its ability to crack heads than the quality of its contents. Gale: Ah. If that's the main criteria then I shall reset my expectations accordingly. Water it is. devnote: Good humoured

—

House of Healing

Wyll: This was a hospital? Feels more like a prison. Gale: A common enough interpretation. Sickness has a nasty habit of making you feel trapped, if only within the confines of your own body. Gale: I once spent weeks convalescing in the Hospice of St Laupsenn (*) after a nasty bout of ruddy pox. For all their kindness, leaving that place behind felt like freedom to me. Wyll: I've always relied on the kindness of the healers and menders of the Coast. Better a cleric's healing touch than a chirurgeon's scalpel.

(Lore note*): The Hospice of St. Laupsenn is a temple of Ilmater in the North Ward of Waterdeep.

—

Moonrise General_AssaultState

Wyll: This is it, Gale - today, we annihilate the heart of the Absolute's power. The bards will sing of our victory here. Gale: Entirely unnecessary. Though if they are so inclined, I might be convinced to share a stanza or two of my own for inspiration. devnote: Feigned modesty

—

Moonrise General

Wyll: This is no aimless horde - the Absolute's forces are organised. What do you make of it, Gale? Gale: All enemies have some chink in their armour, no matter how much they like to believe themselves invulnerable. That's what we must find. devnote: Cheery/determined Wyll: And if we don't find any clear weakness? Gale: Then we hope our mutual strengths are enough to dominate them. Or, we die nobly in the attempt. devnote: Cheery/determined

—

Moonrise Prison

Gale: Not a devil in sight. How disappointing. COL_MizorasRescue_State_SavedMizora = False, TWN_Wyll_State_MizorasCaptureHappened, MOO_MizorasRescue_Event_WalkedAway = False Wyll: I doubt a few iron bars are sufficient to hold one of Zariel's. Gale: True enough. But an illithid pod? That would probably do the trick. devnote: Cogs whirring Wyll: I wager you're right. Ah, Gale - what a pleasure to see a genius' mind at work.

Wyll: Of course Mizora was Zariel's captured asset. How did I not see it coming? TWN_Wyll_State_MizorasCaptureHappened Gale: It's in a devil's nature to conceal the truth - you can't fault yourself for that. Wyll: I've been pacted for seven years on, Gale. I should be able to read between Mizora's lines by now, no matter how narrow the gap.

Gale: How long have you been pacted to Mizora, Wyll? Wyll: Seven years. Seven years of hunting the monsters of the Sword Coast - and seven years of Mizora's tight leash. Wyll: And seven years of wondering if I'd ever rid myself of her - or if I even should.

—

Act 03

At the Basilisk Gate

Gale: The history of the city itself is captured in the archives here - a fascinating resource. Wyll: I wonder what those archives will reveal about us a hundred years hence. Gale: Only the most excellent and complimentary things. With some encouragement from us, of course.

—

Morphic Pool

Gale: Whatever the outcome of what's just ahead, it will be the stuff of legends. Wyll: In that case, someone needs to survive to tell the story. Gale: My money's on you, Wyll. Wyll: I'm betting on all of us.

—

Misc banter

Gale's ticking time bombs

Wyll points out that Gale has two ticking time-bombs inside him - but he's holding together pretty well. Wyll: I admire your courage, Gale. Gale: Thank you. Any particular reason? Wyll: Between the orb and the bug, you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers. Gale: What can I say? Mother always taught me to be a gracious host.

—

Wyll thinks Gale has potential

Wyll tells Gale he's got potential, and suggests he rename himself something more... heroic. Gale finds Wyll quite the tryhard. Wyll: You're an impressive fighter, Gale. You should consider a new name. Gale: I take it you have some suggestions? Wyll: 'The Wizard Wonder!' Or how about, 'The Master of the Weave'? Gale: Tempting. But I think we might already have the maximum number of theatrical titles.

—

With Laz'el and Wyll

Lae'zel notes that Gale knows a lot about mind flayers. He responds with information about his training. If there, Wyll chimes in as well. Lae'zel: You strike me cleverer than most istiki, Gale. Multiple tutors, I should guess. devnote: istiki - non-gith. IH-stick-ee Gale: Many a wise man and woman indeed. Waterdeep is the home of myriad scholars. Wyll: Ah, the City of Splendours. Spent a whole Fleetswake there with my father. What a delight.

—

Romance

The following dialogues are marked as ROM, which I assume is a flag for triggering when there's an active Romance with the MC.

Romance banter, Act 1

Gale: If your natural charm isn't quite up to scratch, Wyll, there are magical means of adding a little flourish of charisma. Wyll: A kind offer, but I think I'd rather pursue things the old fashioned way.

Gale: Have you noticed any attachments of the more, erm, romantic variety flourishing in our camp, Wyll? devnote: Fishing for info, a bit awkward. Wyll: I think I'm not the right person to be asking. Wyll: I can recognise a troll's silhouette on a far horizon, but I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

—

Romance banter, Act 2

Gale: I knew you were a graceful man, Wyll, but I hear you're quite the dancer too. Gale: I've been known to trip the light fantastic myself. Mine was a popular hand at the annual Blackstaff's Ball. Wyll: I'd have love to have witnessed it, Gale. I wager you are as elegant on the dance floor as you are on the battlefield.

Gale: I've heard that in Baldur's Gate, 'wizard' is also a term used for one who eschews their more, ahem, carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll? devnote: Fishing for info, a bit annoyed about what he's heard Wyll: Where are we going with this, Gale? Gale: Oh, nowhere. I just think it a rather cruel misnomer. Not at all reflective of the glamour wizarding life affords. devnote: A bit sulky/sensitive about it

—

Romance banter, Act 3

Wyll: I'm probably going to regret this, but Gale - if I'm to be wed, would you like to make a speech? Gale: You've asked the right wizard. My oratory skills have left many a wedding guest weeping in their seat. devnote: Honoured/very excited at the prospect of speaking at length. Oblivious as to why his previous listeners might have been left weeping… Wyll: Promise it will last less than half an hour? Gale: I can promise it will feel like less than half an hour... devnote: Trying to avoid committing to a short speech

Wyll: I used to believe the beauty of first love was unable to be surpassed. Wyll: But Gale - you are so much more tolerable now you've found your second. Gale: I'll take that comment with the sincerity and good will I assume it was intended. devnote: Not rising to it, cheerful

—

Misc quotes

Tiefling party

Gale: Wyll's a good man. He may actually be a tried-and-true storybook hero. Gale: Then again he's so full of himself it's a small miracle he hasn't resorted to self-cannibalism yet.

Wyll: You're running away from Gale's cooking. Wyll: It's delicious, don't get me wrong, but that man wouldn't eat a vegetable unless Mystra herself commanded it.

Other

Gale: So, you didn't fancy sharpening up the old moniker? I'd have thought the 'Blade of Frontiers' might be feeling a bit dull after all you've been through.

Player: Sounds heavenly. Mind if I join you? Wyll: Not at all. You hunt the deer, I'll scrounge up the ale. Prepare your belly for roast a la Ravengard! Wyll: Let's hope Gale doesn't take offence if I assume cooking duties, just the once.

[starlightshadowsworld]

I love the role swap AU's with Bungou stray dogs so this is my idea for one. Though this is pretty much a rewrite.

18 year old Osamu Dazai leaves the Port Mafia after Odasaku was killed. 2 weeks later, Dazai met up with Cheif Taneda who put in a request to the Agency.

Dazai stays underground for 6 months. Because of his past Dazai is put under supervision of Ryuunosuke Akutugawa and his partner Doppo Kunikida.

Neither are particularly pleased about babysitting but do so anyway. They will all grow on each other, very much.

Dazai spends a lot of time in the office lazing about as he's not an official member yet. A sentiment he loves rubbing in Kunikida's face when the latter tells him to make himself useful.

He does end up sorting some files in the cold cases box. The one he picks to read is about a tiger. "A tiger showed up in Yokohama ?"

"Figures you'd find that one. Yeah, it was what 6, maybe 7 years ago. Caused us quite a lot of trouble, and than vanished into thin air."

Akutagawa explains, almost fond. "You think if I find it I'll get the bounty?" Asked Dazai, Akutugawa snorts "If you do, let me know. I'd love to see it."

Dazai's entrance exam is his canon entrance exam though it's with Akutugawa and Kunikida on the case with him.

He passes and is made an official member. It's at his welcome party where Akutugawa gifts him his brown coat. (Akutugawa's wearing his grey one from Beast)

Dazai is still wanted by the Port Mafia though and a bounty is put on his head. Akutugawa senses that's something is up, declining the Agency's weekly dinner to go out.

"Ooo? Does someone have a hot date tonight?" Teases Dazai. Akutugawa rolls his eyes, ruffling his hair "nothing like that you brat. I'll see you later, and atleast try and behave for Kunikida."

"I make no promises" grins Dazai, leaving with everyone else and talking to Gin. Gin's a student and works part time at the Agency like Junichiro.

Akutugawa chuckles at their antics and heads elsewhere. "Didn't think you'd actually show up. Long time no see, traitor." Said Atsushi Nakajima.

The Port Mafia's White Reaper.

He's sat eating something from a lunchbox and Akutugawa mock gags. "Did you really have to bring your lunch with you?" Atsushi smiled and it would've looked innocent if Akutugawa didn't know him.

That, and the blood in his teeth definitely didn't help.

"Didn't know the Agency made you soft. You were never the squeamish type." Atsushi moves his head out the way before Rashomon can stab him, too used to Akutugawa at this point.

Though thankfully Atsushi puts his meal away. His demeanor shifts to a more serious one.

"About the information you asked for, I hate to admit it but you're right. The Boss wants Dazai back for obvious reasons. But he's not the only one searching for him, he didn't put the bounty up."

Akutugawa frowns "who is it?"

"Funnily enough, same people hunting me." Said Atsushi and Akutugawa paused. He hadn't expected the Guild to be after Dazai.

"And before you ask, I don't know why."

"Of course, but you must have a theory."

Atsushi snorts "I thought you were the Detective here?" He hums thoughtful. "They want me for the book, who's to say those reasons are connected? But..."

He shrugs "I can't say what they'd need him for. Other than that his gift must be involved."

Akutagawa nods, as vague as it was it made sense he supposed. "You can ask Kyouka if you'd like, but I'm not getting more involved in this." Said Atsushi, an edge to his tone.

Akutugawa wasn't suprised. The fact Atsushi still met up with him on occasion and was willing to divulge even this much said a lot.

You'd be hard pressed to find anyone in the Port Mafia as loyal as Atsushi. Mori had plucked him out of an Orphanage that was hell on earth and raised him.

Atsushi had practically pledged his soul to the man. His need to save others became replaced with a need to protect his city, something he excelled at from the shadows.

Akutugawa's purpose was to protect, similar to Atsushi's but he had forced himself to fit into darkness. While Atsushi was a light that could only exist in darkness.

Atsushi wasn't an executive but he was invaluable to the Port Mafia, invaluable to Mori.

Akutagawa knows if Atsushi had someone left with him, Mori wouldn't have simply let him go.

If Mori asked Atsushi about these meetings Atsushi would tell him. But otherwise he'd keep this to himself, it spoke of his loyalty to Akutugawa even after the man had left the organisation.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to intrude on your job. How is Kyouka by the way?" Asked Akutugawa, switching to a much safer topic.

Atsushi smiled fondly, a genuine one unlike the one from earlier.

"She's still on desk duty at the office. You'll probably see her around."

Kyouka was also a special case. Her parents were government assassins and had been killed at her home. Their unit had taken Kyouka in and raised her to be their true successor.

Kyouka was a talented assassin and became the governments spy into the Port Mafia. However unbeknownst to them, she'd switched sides.

Akutugawa reckons it was because of her close sibling bond with Atsushi and himself.

But whatever it was, Kyouka came clean to Mori and he offered her to be his eyes and ears. That's what she became.

All the while searching for the answers of who caused the tragedy that lead to her parents deaths that night

When Atsushi said she was at the office, it meant Kyouka was currently with the Special Abilities Division. The two still met up to get tea now and again.

"Oh, and I didn't take this job. It wasn't handed to me." Said Atsushi, Akutugawa looked at him in suprise.

He'd expected Mori to trust only Atsushi with such a task.... Which meant something else was a foot. Perhaps he wanted the Guild to get Dazai first.

"Can I ask who has?"

Atsushi smirked "Nakahara."

Akutagawa was quiet for a few moments before chuckling. "Of course, who else would be sent."

The animosity between those two was something that rivaled Akutugawa and Atsushi in their early years.

Chuuya Nakahara, formerly the King of Sheep was a force to be reckoned with. He'd only been with the Port Mafia for 3 years, same as Dazai and he'd taken the place by storm.

It wasn't any suprise given his gift. And that he'd been mentored by both Kouyou and Atsushi. And from Atsushi's demeanor, Akutugawa knew just how proud he and Kouyou were of him.

If Akutugawa had to guess Mori was trying to make a new Double Black out of Chuuya and Dazai. Which meant something was definitely up.

He'd say good luck getting those two to work together, but the same had been said that about him and Atsushi.

"I guess I better prepare myself for that fight." Said Akutugawa with a grin. Chuuya wouldn't give him shit for leaving, as long as Akutugawa gave him a worthy fight that was.

"You'd better, he's a lot more stronger the last time you sparred." Said Atsushi, getting to his feet. "I best be off, it was good seeing you."

"And you." Akutugawa watched him vanish into the shadows before heading to the restaurant the Agency were seated at.

Dazai grinned, waving him over to a very obviously saved seat. "I thought you'd be back, your date go that bad?" He was teasing him, but there was a hint of concern.

Akutugawa smiled "I told you, not a date. But it went well, and I am starving." Dazai inspected him for a moment before grinning "well, order up Kunikida's paying."

"I did not agree to this!"

Yeah, Akutugawa was going to protect this kid no matter what.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hello! How do you think the SVE Adventurers (+ Mages too if its ok) react about learning that the farmer had 0 lvl combat experience or training when they joining the adventurers guild?

Preferably, they learned this by the time they already reached at the Crimson badlands for a while now

The game repeatedly reminds us that being an adventurer is a risky job. one adventurer even died to slimes. So why did Marlon just give the new farmer a rusty sword and went "Yeah, I done enough" and went to his merry way??? Its probably the first time they even held an sword, being fresh out of joja and all that.

So I can imagine an Adventurer/Mage noticing the farmer's rough fighting style in the Desert and asking them about who trained them and the farmer's like "Oh, yeah I'm self taught" and their Colleague being "???"

A little lyrical digression: in truth, Marlon is not exactly accepting someone with no experience into the Guild. If Farmer was able to kill at least ten slimes, they're already worth something. Especially since the old adventurer guessed that Farmer was a stubborn person and they would go to the Mines. So he gave them at least something to use in self-defence. Although on such an occasion, it would have been more logical not to let Farmer into the Mines at all, but there was no official ban on entry. Marlon's job is to guard the entrance so the monsters don't get out, but if any humans go in, that's a whole different story.

But that's me digressing, now let's get to the question.... Thanks for the question, by the way, dear anon! 💕

_________________________________________

Isaac:

Suspicions. Lots and lots of suspicions, which, for now, Isaac keeps to himself and doesn't share even with Alesia. Is he the only one who finds it rather odd that a person who has not had at least some experience in combat behind them has become a professional adventurer in a short time, willing to tackle even the horrors of the Crimson Baldlans? Farmer is either a cheater or not who they says they are, because well that's just not possible. And that pisses Isaac off a lot to the point where his facial scar starts to hurt a little. He'll be watching Farmer from a distance to find out what they're up to. And he'll keep his hand on the hilt of his sword if they do something stupid.

Lance:

Although it was rare, there were adventurers and wizards in history who, being beginners, were able to master in a short period of time such techniques and spells that were inaccessible even to adepts of their craft. Lance was the same - in addition to his natural gift in sorcery, he very quickly learnt the basics of magic, sem his peers. But even his quick learning was monitored. Farmer, on the other hand, had shown up very suddenly, so he understood his own and his other colleagues' suspicions. However, a few personal tests and communication with Farmer had dispelled all doubts of the pink-haired man. Nevertheless, he still considers Farmer to be the most mysterious person Lance has ever had to work with.

Alesia:

Of course, it is rather odd that there was no report or mention of Farmer earlier. The Castle Village archives hold files not only on the adventurers living here, but also from other Guilds or self-styled adventurers who had shown themselves in one way or another and could be considered as candidates who could be officially authorised to enter the Castle Village. She doesn't remember the Farmer among the documents. But the sniper trusts her former teacher Marlon, and if the old adventurer has faith in Farmer, then they really are worth something. Moreover, the Farmer shows themself to be a completely honest, brave and good person. Alesia even wonders what the young warrior is still capable of...

Jadu:

Truth be told, Jadu was busy with his own important business to listen to the local gossip and delve into the new Stardew Valley Guild member. But as time passed, the rumours about the mysterious warrior grew more and more, and he became curious as well. Most often, the young adventurer whispered that this Farmer had gone from a novice to a true professional in six months, chopping down monsters in Crimson Baldlans left and right. Which put Jadu in a stupor. He had recently asked Camilla about Farmer's background, and they really had no experience in past. Strange... However, Camilla is taking a very keen interest in them. She definitely can't be fooled, so if she's interested in Farmer, then they really are gifted. So Jadu is ok with Farmer.

Camilla:

Hee hee... For Camilla, this is no hindrance or reason to doubt about the Farmer. Even though even they are an adventurer and a mage only recently, she senses great potential in them. She also feels some of her friends and colleagues are a bit distrustful of Farmer. But any good mage and professional adventurer will notice that Farmer is a true uncut diamond, which with proper attention will prove themself even better than now. The main witch of Castle Village will let the Farmer solve their problem with distrust of others in themselves, at the same time to check how they will behave in such a situation. She will watch them with a mysterious smile...

[bluemooncove]

It was a rare quiet night in the guild hall. Circumstances that only occurred in their busiest of seasons, when so many of the beauties were on contract that only Meisters and guild elders remained. A once in a decade peace descended upon her home. The first time this had happened she found the quiet unnerving but now she'd come to appreciate it. The quiet must be appreciated when it comes.

Beauty had only meant to use this time to relax. Meditation and perhaps a few games. Instead she found her body growing heavier and heavier. Her eye struggled to stay open as she began to slump lower and lower onto her desk. It had been so long since she had truly rested. The guildhall creaked. There was a pitter patter of rushing feet in the halls of the third floor. Just as Beauty's head met with the desk her door flew open. Through it barreled a quite exerted looking Secretary.

"Guild master, the last time you true slept it lasted for an entire month. The guild hall needs you, please reconsider. With the reports on Project JOHANNA and the foreign fairy ..."

Her head barely rose from the desk. There was a tired smile on her face as her blurry vision struggled to focus upon her old friend.

"I am tired and this time I don't feel it will be so long. If I sleep early, I will wake up early. I think that I need to dream again ... this time I think I'll reminisce. Goodnight ███████ I'll see you in the mor- ..."

As Beauty spoke her voice grew weaker and sluggish. She'd already begun to drift into a sleep that went beyond sleeping. Not even managing to finish her thought. Instead simply slumping over the desk. In the sky above hung a new moon that shrouded the guild itself in darkness. Elsewhere the island was brightly lit from corner to corner as celebration of Moko the Great Phoenix began. While others partied ~ Beauty began to dream again.

[fancyfeathers]

Yandere Writing Personas

Do you ever feel like you have a persona when you write? For me when I write I feel like a reporter or anonymous writer who exposes secrets of the social scene. Sure writing may hurt other people but it’s the truth. So how would this persona work in the worlds I write for…

Bungou Stray Dogs

I would be a reporter for a well known newspaper perhaps in New York or Chicago, working in exposing the details of well known individuals, corrupt politicians, scandals with this or that star, and so on. Then on my desk one day my boss drops my next assignment, the Guild has been making moves in Yokohama, Japan and I am to go undercover as a civilian and investigate. So I pack up my suitcase and head on the next flight.

There I get a job at a bookstore or perhaps a cafe near the epicenter of all this drama, the Armed Detective Agency. The members come and go and sometimes I get bits and pieces of what’s happening from eavesdropping on their conversations, but it’s not enough. My boss is getting upset because the articles I am writing are just not enough. It is frustrating because if I don’t get this right I’m done. If I go after the Guild and expose their personal secrets, I won’t be able to get another job again once Fitzgerald finds out. If I go after the Armed Detective Agency no one would believe me given their positive reputation. If I go after the Port Mafia… well I’d rather not think about that.

Then when I’m at my lowest I get a letter from an anonymous friend. In the letter they explain on how they have been following my work and would like to lend a helping hand for both our sakes. Along with the letter is a package full of files that are labeled with different names, the names of members of different organizations I am to report on. Kunikida, Chuuya, Mori, Fitzgerald, hell even people like Ango who have no clear ties to any of these organizations. I open the files and what is inside horrifies me, photos of these people’s darlings, the truth behind all these people. I was told to use this evidence and if I don’t I will face the repercussions from both the sender and my own boss.

So I write these articles anonymously and I hear whispers from the people on the street on how they expected this sort of thing from the Port Mafia and the Guild but the Armed Detective Agency. Then one day I get a call from my boss telling me that there have been a series of brutal murders of different reporters, most likely done by the Port Mafia or the Guild to silence the stories. I have to be careful. Everyday it feels like I’m walking on eggshells and scared for my life.

Genshin Impact

I would be a child of a wealthy family, a member of high society in the social scene of Fontaine. Having to a keep my mouth shut on social issues becomes so incredibly difficult and I couldn’t possibly work for the Steambird because they would never listen to someone who has no real impact on the social scene. So instead I start a gossip pamphlet, reporting on the news that goes untold. I write on unfair trials of the Court and how the Iudex must start making decisions on his own rather than looking at the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale for the final verdict, it gives no chance when evidence is stacked against a clearly innocent person. People read these pamphlets and wonder who this person is while I am just listening and making notes for my next story.

One day I am going to the Opera Epiclese with my mother to watch a trial that I plan to report on. Then after the trial I am making my way home when I spotted the Iudex with a woman on his arm, the Iudex has a partner? I dig into it, looking into old records, old newspapers and I find it. It was buried in old newspapers that was so incredibly hard to find, it was about a trial that happened a number of years ago and Neuvillette’s darling was the guilty. Then I digged further and it was a crime that violated a law that was made only days prior and he sentence was to serve the Iudex for life. It was so burried that it looked that someone was trying to cover it up.

When I publish my article Fontaine booms with rumors and needless to say the Iudex’s reputation is shattered. I hear the voices talking about how I get my hands on this information and how dedicated I was to this. That’s when a statement was released that my anonymous identity was found guilty of some sort of information smuggling and sentenced to life in the fortress of Meropide. So what do I do now? I keep writing, after all the truth is worth it,

[asexualbuthorny]

I’m a background character but the villain’s mine pt.3

Content warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, toxic relationships, abuse, starvation mentions, threats of human trafficking, fear, future smut.

 Time was running out. IT WAS RUNNING OUT!!! Mendella was at a loss of what to do. He looked through countless files on nobles who would suit his requirements but they all were either complete creeps, old men or had simply rejected Mendellas proposal outright. The young man was falling further and further into despair as the deadline for finding a suitable alpha approaches.

   As he was wallowing in his misery the door to his room opened and in stepped his older sister Livone. She walked towards his desk with calm and measured steps, her tail held loosely in the air, ears relaxed by the sides of her head and face as unreadable as ever. Before Mendella could utter a word the woman lightly threw a file on his desk and left as suddenly as she entered. The young lord stared at the file as if he had never seen one before. With shaking hands Mendella picked the file up all the while fighting the hesitant spark of hope slowly blooming in his heart.

   Mendella opened the file and what greeted him was....a completely average face of a lord in his twenties. The man in the picture wasn’t stunningly gorgeous but he wasn’t ugly either. Short (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes and an easygoing and relaxed smile...it was kind of charming actually. Shaking his head Mendella went on to read more information on the man who was, for all intents and purposes, his last hope. (Name)(Lastname). 24 years of age (okay that wasn’t bad at all. Mendella was only a little older at 27). No illnesses, has investments in the merchants guild and in some fashion stores. Runs multiple businesses of his own. Known not to particularly enjoy human company and keeps to himself. Perfect. A simple man who has enough money and doesn’t appear in the public eye too often. This was just what Mendella needed. Just then something else on the paper drew the omegas attention and made his ears perk up in interest. This nondescript man was the one who owned the famous “crystal flowers”. Those “plants” were a rare and very sought after item among both the nobility and the commoners. The stem and petals were regular plant but in the center gems and magic stones of various kinds would grow and be harvested and later used from anything from jewelry to magic to medicine. The organic parts of the “plant” would also be used for a variety of things as well. This one thing raked in great amounts of money for (Name) and many people tried to get closer to him in order to obtain the secret to the flowers but none succeeded so they had, at one point, left the alpha to his own devices....

  YES!YES!YES! He was perfect! This was Mendellas ticket out of being sold off and out of that house. It didn’t even matter if that man was inattentive or even abusive, anything would be better than what his the omegas family had in store for him. Mendella has found his perfect (or as perfect as can get in this situation) match. The only thing that was left to do was to send the marriage proposal and hope for the best...

   You were currently sitting in your office filling paperwork with the help of your loyal beta butler Ilsith. You swore to everything in this and any other world that if it were not for him your life would have fallen apart. The man was a literal godsent. Your ears were laid flat on your head and your tail laid limply on the ground (you were so clumsy with all that at first). “Uggghhhhhhhhh” you whined as you began reading another stupid, boring document. “When will this eeennnddddd?” Ilsith turns to you “My lord, with all due respect, there isn’t much to be done today so you can stop being overdramatic” he says with a small but friendly smile. “Yeah. You’re right. I should just power through this and have the rest of the day off” you grumble as you get to working. Then the sound of a knock came through the door and in came your trusted maid Camilla. “My lord, the mail” she said as she set the letters down on your desk. She always spoke so little...whatever you do you girl....”Thanks Camilla” you grinned at her with a small raise of the hand. She bowed and left to attend to her other duties. Boooo..so business like..no fun at all. “Welp! Let’s see what we got here~” you sang as you began to shift through the mail. “Invite, invite, invite, blah blah blah, boring, boring, boring~”. Damn. You really never got anything interesting...that’s the way you liked it though so you had no right to complain. Then, your entire world seemed to stop as your eyes zoned in on the insignia on one of the letters. The symbol of the de Gregorian family. What was that doing here? Were you hallucinating? “Ilsith? Can you come look at this for me? I think my eyes are broken.”. He came to you and took the letter from your shaking hands. The butler squinted at it before confirming what you just saw. “Yes, yes. This is the symbol of the de Gregorian family. Now what could those people possibly want with us?” The dislike of the name was clear in his voice as he said it. Well...they kind of deserved it. The de Gregorian family was notorious for their arrogance and rudeness but you weren’t really surprised considering this was the “villains” family. Of course they’re assholes. You took the letter back and opened it and read the contents. As you were reading your ears slowly perked up and your tail began to wag as you read the piece of paper again and again. “Ilsith read this for me I think I’m seeing things”. Ilsith sighed as he took the letter from you and began to read aloud. It was true. It was really true. Mendella de Gregorian himself wrote to you requesting to meet to discuss a marriage proposal. This was.....AN ABSOLUTE DREAM COME TRUE! You could have the man of your dreams just like that? Life is good, the birds are singing, your crops are thriving, your skin is clear. You would have honestly just written an agreement then and there no meeting needed if it were not for EtIqUeTte. Fuck these old ass rules and these dumbass nobles. Fine. You could play by the rules. You didn’t want to, but you would. For the sake of your perfect, lovely, magnifiscent, incre- *ahem* for the sake of your possible future spouse Mendella de Gregorian or, if everything goes well, Mendella (Lastname). “Ilsith grab me a pen and paper I have a letter to write!”. You were on fire. Your poor butler watched helplessly as you spent the next few hours penning a letter worth your obsession. You didn’t have that day off afterall...

[noisilyeclecticmilkshake]

[Redacted] A.K.A Caretaker

Caretaker wasn’t the one that found Whumpee, but they were the one that cleaned the wounds, stitched them closed, and put cooling ointment on the burns. They were the only one privy to just how bad it had been. 

And it was all for Villain’s entertainment. There was no reason to it. No goal to achieve, no information to be gained. Villain had just wanted to lord his power over the group. But there was only so much Caretaker could see, only so many wounds they could fix and mend before it was too much. 

Whumpee was their breaking point. 

They waited until Whumpee was healed, enough that they could go back to something resembling their old daily routine at least.

“Hey guys!” Caretaker was a little somber, but still with a smile, this was for the best.

“Oh. Yes, of course. Take care of yourself, I’m sure we can manage not to fall into a lava pit while you’re gone.” 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I… just need a little break. I won’t be gone long I promise. This work can just take a lot of you yaknow?” 

Leader spoke for the whole group, all of them nodding in agreement. Caretaker had helped all of them for years. And, unless they were concentrating, always had a smile on their face. The group really couldn’t help but look at Caretaker like a younger sibling. Despite working with the team for years, they still looked quite young. When asked, they muttered something about their ability aging them slower, they said someone had explained it to them once, but it was too complicated to bother to remember.

In addition to looking so young, somewhere in their mid 20’s, they were absent of any scars. Physical or otherwise. In contrast, the team was riddled with them and the stories they contained. Escaped from a corrupt medical institution, ran away from home at a young age, kidnapped. But Caretaker had lived a simple life, a good home, a good school, so unmarred by life, Leader thought a prank was being played on them when Caretaker was suggested by the guild. ‘Exceptionally good at their job.” Had been the only explanation when they asked why some starry eyed kid showed up at the team’s door.

So, if Caretaker wanted a break, no one was going to stop them. There was no doubt they would all be dead ten times over without Caretaker and their youthful energy. 

And just like that Caretaker was driving to their ‘out of the way’ vacation house. They had rented it a week ago, when Whumpee’s recovery had really started panning out. And it wasn’t completely a lie, they did stop there to rest, they needed it after 10 hours on the road. But it was  just that, a resting place on the way to their true destination. The next morning they headed to Villain’s headquarters.

There were plenty of people there, even some they recognized, and they made it to Villain’s office with little resistance.

Villain opened the door to see Caretaker. Under other circumstances, he would have greeted Caretaker as a friend, they had healed quite a few of Villain’s people, his family really, each handpicked and trained by him personally. This was back when he would get in way over his head, but that was years ago, back when Caretaker was only a year into the guild, before he learned just how powerful he could be. 

Villain had looked into the rest of the team too, before he took Whumpee. Out of curiosity, they checked out Caretaker’s file again, a little disappointed, aside from Caretaker’s power, they were weak. They could heal exceptionally well, but not much else, blood didn’t bother them, but they never saw combat and would likely die on the battlefield.

Any. Other. Circumstance. As it was, they did not greet Caretaker at all, instead, his eyes were fixed on the hall behind Caretaker. It was littered with the bodies of his people, most of them weren’t moving, the few that were, could barely find it in themself to write in their pain. And there wasn’t a single drop of blood. He was gripped with a fear he hadn’t felt in years. 

“Who did this? Why are you just standing there? HELP THEM!” But as he looked at Caretaker, there was no fear, no confusion. It took a second for Villain to realize what emotion was there. It warped Caretaker's face into something akin to a monster and Villain was forced to take a step back in surprise. 

It was malice.

“You?”

“Villain… ” Caretaker’s voice was calm and cold and dangerous, like a warning. 

No, not a warning. Villain thought. Warnings gave you a chance to fix your mistake. A prophecy. The inescapable fate of danger. 

There was a slow advance as Caretaker entered the room. Villain could feel his heart pound harder, as he mirrored Caretaker’s steps, forced farther back into his office by unabashed terror. 

“What did you think was going to happen after you did that Whumpee?”

“I-I’ve” He couldn’t believe he was stuttering, cowering in front of Caretaker. “Enemies have suffered far worse at my hand than Whumpee. You know that better than anyone.”

“What did you do?”

“You hurt those people for a reason. You hurt Whumpee for a sadistic high.” Caretaker had entered the room completely now, taking care to close and lock the doors behind them. Not another word passed between them as Caretaker surveilled their surroundings, walking around the room while Villain remained dead center, the same place he had held Whumpee for over a week. 

[Redacted] has a power reported as ‘healing’. This is intentionally misleading, as their true power is really quite dangerous.

There was an understanding the next time Caretaker spoke. This room, and everything in it, belonged to them.

“They gave me a name at the guild. Did you find it when you were ‘researching’?” The calm was still there, but their voice had lowered.

Their ability category is really best described as time manipulation.

“Y-you knew?”

Caretaker had wandered their way around the room, finally settling behind their new desk. A desk with an abundance of tools Villain was far too familiar with.

“I earned it on account of the people I let live. You see, I was quite young. Angry. Vengeful. I wanted them so suffer.”

“Young! You’re barely 20…” Villain voice trailed off as something clicked in his mind.

“So, did you find my other name?” Caretaker had taken their chair and placed it in front of the desk.

Villain could only shake his head as an answer. Present tense, like they still use whatever name the Guild bestowed them. He had worked with Caretaker when they first joined the guild, this was a fact, but that was almost 10 years ago.

Specifically, [Redacted] can control the rate at which the human body moves through time.

“Kronos.” Villain had no time to process the title, his screams were too loud.

This includes, but is not limited to: 1. Hurling the body forward.

Villain stopped screaming. He couldn’t tell if it was because the pain stopped or because he had reached a pitch the human ear couldn’t register. It must have been some version of the former because he heard Kronos talking again.

2. Forcing it backwards.

“The human body can only handle so many electric impulses at once. The brain sends those out in moderation through time. So naturally, when your brain is sped forward, those years of impulses are sent through your body in rapid fire succession. Interestly, the same cannot be said in reverse.” 

3. Stopping it in time entirely

They were right. Instead of agony running through every vein, there was a relentless nothing. Pure, distilled, numbness coated everything. It should have been a relief after what he had just endured. Instead he felt madness start to infect his mind as the juxtapositioned intensities of years of torture passed in mere minutes.

Over [redacted] years, they have honed this ability. Sharpened it. Able to target even the smallest of bones in the human body.

As Kronos finally let go. Villain was flooded with the curse of nerve endings, and heightened senses. Feeling. Hearing. Tasting. Seeing. All returned in a devastating whiplash. He hadn’t learned his lesson, still expecting relief once the torture ended. They must have thrashed around in their numbness, they could feel bruises forming invisibly under their skin.

Kronos’s voice was unchanged. Calm. Cold. Dangerous.

“What’s really incredible is how the body responds when the heart is forced to pump in reverse.”

[Redacted] earned two names when they joined the Guild.

Villain felt his heart slow, and felt an instant, artificial lightheadedness from the quickly induced oxygen enriched blood. His lungs taking in too much for the heart to distribute properly. It was slow, torturous  but eventually, his lungs calmed, matching his heart. He was on the edge of consciousness, everything was agony.

“Please.” Villain voice had been reduced to a whisper.

“No.” 

And he felt his heart pull blood from the wrong places. 

1. Kronos

Wrong.

Another beat, and as his heart pushes blood to something already full

WRoNg.

And it was slow. 

Kronos finally moved from their chair, sitting criss-cross in front of Villain. 

Somehow, he was still breathing, still living. He didn’t think it should have been possible. He should already be dead. 

Their second name is lesser known. But has been reported by victims as ‘accurate’.

“Do you want to live?”

Villain had worked so hard to gain everything. It was this, he thought. Just this. Get through this and he would have everything back. 

He answered and realized why Kronos had taken perch so near to his body. The word he pushed out wouldn’t have been audible from anywhere else. “Yes.”

2. Terror-Incarnate.

“Let’s fix that.”

[biowhore]

Distraction

Gale/female sorcerer Tav

Content: Smut, short, one-shot, porn with feelings, power play, grinding, penis in vagina sex, desk sex, cunnilingus, bratting, modern AU (sort of), married, post-canon, mage hand spell, detect thoughts spell, restraint

Word count: 3.8k

The desk was long and wide, with plenty of surface space left to display a few of his many academic, societal, and guild awards, carefully contained within small crystal display domes. It was an alter to his mind and magic.  She had a particular plan to worship upon that altar very soon.

I'm truly very normal about my draconic sorcerer Tasha and Gale. You didn't ask but they have a playlist. If you read Credentials you know these two, though she was just Tav at the time.

Fic List, AO3

Tasha had been building Gale’s ire all day.  

She could not help herself. Gale’s anger was too delicious, and she had a craving.  

Throughout his day in his study, he worked painstakingly to translate a collection of old spell scrolls from Celestial to Common as a joint effort between Blackstaff Tower and the Watchful Order. He had been in his study for several days, working in long stints to meet his self-imposed deadline. Neither organization offered him hard limits on a timeline, he simply enjoyed the task so much that he worked tirelessly and neglected the other aspects of his life. Tasha was one of those aspects, much to her irritation. He’d barely spoken to her since he began this project, and she and Tara had to force him to eat and sleep. His proclivity for extreme focus on these projects was a work in progress between her and Tara. She understood that it was in his nature, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun with it. It also didn’t mean that she didn’t miss him when he was like this. 

Much of the time, he acquiesced to the two of them without incident. Still, she couldn’t resist using these special instances to needle him into a frenzy. Gale did not have a temper, not really, but the rare times she worked him up into overwhelming annoyance sparked a flame inside her that she could not extinguish, and now she sought it out when he was hidden away in his work like this. Her game came with the bonus of helping him break his hyperfocus. A win-win. 

She waltzed into the circular central room of Gale’s giant study in their home in Waterdeep for the tenth time that day, her black pumps clicking on the dark wood floor. Gale was seated, as he had been each time she entered, at his ornate rosewood desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he scrutinized his computer screen. Oblivious to her entry, he perched his chin in his hand as he clicked through several different windows of Celestial language references.  

Tasha continued walking along the edge of the room, the walls lined with bookshelves that conformed to their unusual curve. The ceiling was high, and natural light spilled through the skylight carved in the center, flooding the room with late afternoon peachy hues. Gale's desk sat directly underneath the skylight. The sunlight brought out the blonde colors in the woodgrain, making it appear brighter, and spilled over his graying dark brown hair. Dust motes wavered in and out of the beams, as if peeking over his shoulders, pondering his notes. His laptop sat atop a matching rosewood stand, the large sleek monitor tucked to one corner so he could spread out his papers and paraphernalia. A crystal scrying orb sat on the other side, pens and pencils scattered about, stacks of overflowing file folders, and all the notes he had been hand writing front and center. The desk was long and wide, with plenty of surface space left to display a few of his many academic, societal, and guild awards, carefully contained within small crystal display domes. It was an alter to his mind and magic. 

She had a particular plan to worship upon that altar very soon. 

Tasha strode at a leisurely pace along the shelves, stopping occasionally to remove a book and idly flip through the pages before returning it. She pretended she was looking for something, arranging and rearranging a few collections of scrolls, scrutinizing the display cases of their artifacts collected from their foray of saving the world.  

 She hemmed and hawed as she went, waiting to see how long it would take before he finally asked what she wanted. Unfortunately for her, she made several circuits around the room without him taking notice. On her fifth pass by the marble bust of the Blackstaff, she crossed her arms and huffed at his back. As she tapped her foot, she considered being more obvious, but ultimately, she knew she would have to be aggressive. That was fine by her.  

Smoothing a few flyaway hairs from her long, slick, dark braid, she kicked off her pumps and strode around to the front of his desk. Time to get what she wanted. She leaned on the desktop, making sure the angle was right for him to see the small swell of her breasts through the gap in her cream-colored chiffon blouse, hoping to tease him with a glimpse of her umber decolletage.   

Now that she was directly in front of him at his desk, Gale looked up from his monitor at her with a mild smile, his eyes peering at her over his reading glasses, “What can I do for you this time, my love?” 

He’s so cute, she thought. She cleared her throat, “I suspect you have ideas, based on your tone.” 

“Well, it is not lost on me that you have come in here multiple times today,” He chuckled, folding his hands underneath his chin. “While I am always pleased by your presence, I think we both know you want something other than references on the diet of mephits, discussion on the mating habits of ogres, or... What was it you were here for at noon?” 

“Dragon liches. But that was genuine!” She grumbled, “Related to my research.”  

“Indeed,” he grinned, looking up at her expectantly.  

She huffed, stood straight, and rounded the desk to his chair. She pressed into his space, the front of her thighs pressed against the plastic arms, attempting to loom over him as she defended herself. 

“I have reason to believe my ancestor has become a lich, and I’d like to ask a favor, so I’m looking into it. But,” she emphasized at the intrigued look that bloomed across his face, “That’s neither here nor there. I was looking for Professor Dekarios, and I found him,” she purred, trailing a finger across the back of his chair, “But the Professor has been very busy lately. So busy he’s neglecting a poor student.” 

Gale set his glasses down and ran a hand down his face, rubbing his tired eyes, groaning at her playacting.  

“Tasha, please.” 

“Please, what?” she mocked. 

He looked up at her imploringly, eyes widened for a moment, showing off the deep brown pools. But then his eyebrows lowered, his face changing entirely as he caught on to her game. Quicksilver sparked across his eyes, and his award-winning smile graced her with an appearance. A moment there was Gale, and another there was the Wizard of Waterdeep. This man seemed to have a plan Tasha may or may not like.  

It thrilled her. 

As he held her eyes a hand snaked around to the small of her back. He pulled her down onto his lap, facing the desk, deliberately positioning her to straddle his thigh. Mage hands held her elbows and wrists together making her lean forward and balance precariously.  

He pulled her backward by her long braid, leaning forward to meet her ear, “Is this the sort of attention you were after?” 

She nodded, grinning like the cat that got the cream. 

“Very well. You are going to use my thigh while I finish my work. If you do as I ask, and behave, perhaps I’ll humor you after.” 

Her breath hitched in excitement, her chin tucking down with her submission. 

“Begin.” 

She obeyed, rocking her hips along his thigh, the rustle of the fabric of his trousers as she moved the only sound left in the room. Gale turned back to his notes, writing with one hand and hovering the other over the small of her back. He completely ignored her, focused on the details of his writing. She snuck a peek as she rocked; something about the context of a phrase that would lend different translations if not considered. Her eyes blurred with the tedium of it while she worked herself. He was writing slowly as well, taking his time to form the letters neatly, pausing to consider a sentence, crossing things out on occasion. It drove her mad. It wasn’t enough for her to come, but the friction of her grinding was a perfect tease. She was growing ever wetter, and she hoped he would feel it soon. 

She pressed down a little harder and tried a little moan for him, to get his attention.  

“Silence,” he quietly admonished her, still not even pausing to look up from his notes. 

The spectral hands at her wrists and elbows tightened their grip incrementally. Pressure and tightness added deliciously to the sensation of her grinding on his thigh, causing a genuine whimper at the back of her throat. Her pace picked up, her back arching in a C shape as she bore down, so close now. 

But Gale had other ideas. He pulled her back toward him by her braid again, halting her movements. 

“You are not behaving as I requested.” 

She growled, her frustration reaching its peak. 

Enough was enough; she wanted to come and so she would. 

Her magic flared to life, dispelling his mage hands and conjuring her own. She stood from his thigh, turned, and pressed a finger to his lips before he could argue. His eyes widened in indignation with the realization that she’d silenced him. Her mage hands took his wrists, his pen discarded onto his notes, and bound them to the arm rests of his wheeled desk chair. Smug, Tasha pushed his chair back with a foot placed between his legs. She surveyed him with a smile, biting her lip when she saw the wet mark she left on his slacks.  

“My patience ran out,” she said playfully. Gale only shook his head, looking delightfully incensed. He clenched his fists, his jaw, and her favorite little crease deepened between his brows.  

She reached out to smooth it, “Don’t worry my love. You’ll get your fill.”  

She hopped up on the desktop, propping her feet on the edge and flipping her flowing red pleated skirt over her knees, all for Gale to see. She reveled in how his pupils dilated once he realized she was bare. Oh yes, she had quickly discarded her lace panties before entering his study, fully intending on having him restrained in that chair and unable to do anything but watch.  

Leaning back on one elbow, she trailed her fingers to each button of her blouse, parting the material to show him the black lace bustier underneath. They continued their journey down her umber midriff, through the wet curls between her legs, and finally parting the folds of her eager cunt. She dipped two fingers inside herself, slickening them and circling around her clit. She sighed at the relief, circling faster, adding pressure, giving herself what she had been wanting. Her head tipped back for a moment as she reveled in her pleasure.  

Gale sat still in his chair, seemingly content to watch, but she knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted much more. She slowed her fingers, sliding them back and forth through her folds, parting them for him, circling her entrance, teasing him visually. He leaned forward slightly, watching with growing interest, but still sitting prim like the good boy he was.  

“Will you taste me, Gale?” she asked huskily.  

He looked up at her, gracing her with his wonderous smirk, nodding slightly.  

She grinned back at him and reached out with her hand, pulling his chair back toward the desk with magical force. His hands would remain bound, but his mouth was free to do what he did best.  

He locked eyes with her as he leaned forward, parting his lips, ghosting his breath across her. She bit her lip in anticipation, but he did not indulge her. He continued blow air across her wet pussy, causing shivers to break out from the base of her spine up to the crown of her scalp, raising the fine hairs along her arms and the back of her neck.  

She threw her head back in frustration, “You still tease me?” She whined. 

“You’ve taught me well, my love.” 

He took pity on her and latched, swirling his tongue around her clit as he sucked. Her body responded instantly, her hips grinding into his face as her pleasure barreled toward that edge she desperately wanted to be thrown over. Her hands fisted his hair, her hips bucked, her muscles tensed, and then... cold.  

Gale had freed his hands easily once he had determined they were needed. Those hands, those wicked hands, had then chilled her clit with the lightest touch, halting her orgasm. 

She growled and yanked his hair, “I loathe when you use my own element against me, especially when you use it like that.” 

“Hmm, it tastes like you rather liked it,” He rumbled, licking at her entrance greedily for her bittersweet taste. His hands gripped her ass, kneading in an apology. “You seemed to enjoy the last few times as well.” 

“I think you take denial too literally,” she sighed, already beginning to melt to him, ever the fire to her ice. But he’s not wrong, she thought, I do like it, maybe too much.  

“Shall I do it again since you like it so much?” He sneered. 

Tasha gasped, “Did you read my thoughts?” 

“Mmm,” He answered between a lick through her center. “Forgive me.” 

“Well, if you’re going to be in my head let’s make good use of it, shall we?” She shook her head at him in mock admonishment, a smirk across her face until Gale sucked at her clit again. 

He could read her thoughts until they were not thoughts at all, only spikes of feeling. It could be rather disorienting, attempting to take direction from someone caught in lust’s haze. Gale was not one to back down from a challenge such as this, however. Tasha collapsed back onto the desktop, her arms limp beside her head. Her hips writhed into his face, as good a signal as any that what he was doing was well received. He felt her need to be filled and provided two fingers; he felt her need pressure and pressed down with the flat of his tongue; he felt her pleasure and drove her higher and higher, his fingers crooking inside her and pushing in and out with the rhythm of his tongue on her clit. Her thighs found their way onto his shoulders, and as he thrust her into a powerful orgasm they squeezed around his head, her toes curling and her cry echoing off the rounded walls of his study. It was sweet music, perfectly paired with the scent and taste of her like this, flooded with her release.  

As she went limp, he withdrew his fingers and gently placed her thighs back down, kissing the tender skin on the inside and brushing his beard there. She whimpered with oversensitivity, her chest heaving to catch her breath.  

Now he had her where he wanted her, and the picture of her disheveled and spread out over his desk, displacing his achievements and artifacts of his hard work, all his things askew as if she claimed the place for herself, drove him feral.  

He sat her up with gentle hand at her back, tucking stray flyaway hairs back behind her ears. She gave him a drunken smile and he erased it with his kiss, biting and commanding. He parted her legs and tugged her to his groin, her chest flush with his. 

“I do not much enjoy being made the fool,” he growled in her ear, referring to when she had him restrained in his desk chair. 

“It appears you’ve enjoyed it well enough,” Tasha sneered, lifting her hips to feel the firmness in his trousers. She hummed, now sex drunk, but still craving Gale like a sinful treat, “You gave me a reward. What shall my punishment be, archmage?” 

Gale grabbed her face over her mouth to silence her, firmly but gently pushing her back on the desk and looming over her. He fumbled with his belt, whispering in her ear angrily, “I'm going to fuck you the way I want and you’re going to be quiet about it.” 

A manic giggle burst from her throat, and he hurriedly whipped himself out and pushed inside her. Her giggles cut off on a moan that brought a fiendish grin to his lips. He rose again and yanked her to the edge of the desk, nearly knocking his laptop off. A few of his paper notes were crumpling beneath her but he was the farthest away from caring. He held her thighs tight and wide as he hammered into her in quick, angry thrusts, making the desk lurch slightly each time. Gods, her cunt was like home. No matter how irrational she made him, it was always made up for when he was being gripped by her.  

Without his hand stifling her she started moaning in earnest, arching her back and throwing her hands above her head to give him a show of her breasts bouncing with his thrusts, “Finally!” 

“I distinctly remember telling you to be quiet,” he chided half-heartedly. He truly enjoyed any praise from her, even if she was breaking his rules.  

Tasha giggled again, sat up slowly between his thrusts and pulled him closer by his dark sweater, whispering, “I’ll make you a deal. Fuck me how I want, and I’ll quietly let you know just how much I like it.” 

Despite having indulged her quite recently, he could not resist her. He groaned long and low, the way she commanded him lighting fire in his veins, “Tell me.” 

She bit his lip and giggled again, “Turn me around and lean over me. I’m starving for you Gale, fuck me hard. Tell me how good it is to be in my pussy again.”  

His hips stuttered at her instructions, a small moan leaving his chest. He quickly pulled out and did as she asked, pulling her off the desk, turning her around by her hips, and bending her over it.  

Tasha moaned as her chest hit the desktop and she felt his cock slam back into her, “Oh, gods, yes,” she hissed.  

He rested his weight over her, pressing his forehead against her temple, the thin scales there tickling his skin. His panting breaths ruffled her black hair as he spoke, “I didn’t realize how much I missed this cunt until you let me taste it. I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” 

Tasha whimpered, arching her back and widening her stance to have him even deeper. He spoke with such dignity and grace, to hear him say things like that stoked her fire even higher. 

“What a fool I am to abstain from this. Your words sharp as blades but your pussy sweet as honey.” He grinned as he thrust deep inside her and stilled, teasing her yet again. To add to her despair, he whispered, “I reach godhood within you.” 

Her whine at his teasing broke off into giggles, “Divine my pussy may be, but you belong nowhere near godhood Gale Dekarios.” 

“You are right, as always,” He chuckled with her. His hand snaked down between the desk and her sex, his fingers circling her clit as his thrusts continued and quickened. He whispered, “I belong with you.”  

No more words were passed between them as they lost themselves to each other. Gale rutted into her as she moaned and whimpered without care, sliding forward on the desk as he fucked her. His free hand caught hers that gripped the desk, lacing their fingers together. His mouth alternated between gracing her neck with open-mouthed kisses and panting in her ear as he rested his forehead against her temple.  

“I missed you,” Tasha gasped. 

Her confession had him bursting, wholly unexpected and sweet. A deep groan ripped from his chest as his muscles seized, spilling seemingly endlessly inside her, his cock throbbing in time with the flutter of her cunt. She squeezed him as if to milk him, her arm reaching back to grip his ass through his slacks. She hummed with satisfaction as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck while he caught his breath, taking small tastes of her sweat there.  

When he could think beyond the feel of her cunt enveloping him, he stood up and gently guided her to do the same. He sat her back on the desk and began buttoning her blouse for her after tucking himself away and straightening his sweater. Each button put to rights was concluded with peck on her cheek there, her neck there, and her nose here. Once he finished with the penultimate button, he took her face in his hands, brushing his thumbs across the opalescent scales adorning them.  

“I’m sorry,” he murmured solemnly.  

Tasha barked a short laugh in surprise, “Whatever for, Gale?” 

“For getting so absorbed by this project. I realize I’ve been become somewhat of a hermit in here while you’ve been left to fend for yourself.” 

“Oh Gale, I know you love your work. Your mind is only one of the reasons I fell in love with you. I wouldn’t change it for anything.” 

Tasha’s hands held his wrists reverently as she melted to his touch. Her icy blue eyes fell into his brown pools. The sunlight through the roof had deepened to red and peach, the rays catching in his irises and revealing the gold and crimson within. Warring aspects of himself that battled endlessly: the golden child, the treasured husband, the honored academic; the formidable battle mage, the power-hungry man, the vainglorious prodigy. She loved them all, even if she didn’t like them all.   

“I love you,” she whispered onto his lips, as true now as the first time she said it. “And I love teasing you,” she grinned.  

“It is quite astonishing how you manage to bring out the best and worst in me.” 

At that she nipped his lip, “No, Gale. There is no worst or best. There is only you, and I love you.” 

He sighed, resting his forehead on hers in defeat, having had this conversation many times before. “I know, I know...” his fingers trailed down to her arms, rubbing gently, “Hmm. Someday I may just be worthy of you.” 

He shushed her impeding reply with a finger at her lips, “Yes, yes, but enough of that. I think my wife requires a bath and a feast.” 

Tasha smiled with the light of Lathander himself, always getting a tiny flutter of butterflies whenever he called her wife. “You wife agrees. To the bath, if you please.” 

Gale obliged quickly, wrapping her legs around his waist and hoisting her up to his chest. He placed an affectionate kiss at her chin, looking up at her with all the love in the world as he walked them both down the hall to their bedroom. 

----

Merry Chrysler fellow Galemancers! Thank you for reading! I sincerely hope you enjoyed it

[worstcrystalbearer]

Day 5 - "Stamp"

"-And your personal seal goes here."

While she wasn't quite an adult yet, Katakura no Uzuki had just finished filing her first set of paperwork to establish Katakura Adventuring Financial Services in Ul'dah (with the help of her foster-guardian, veteran adventurer Jana Ridah). It had been a long road, but all things considered, it hadn't been very difficult: After using Jana's connections to sell off the unclaimed cargo she'd come with from Doma at reasonable prices, those same merchants had helped her get the right business paperwork and fill in what she could on her own. Jana did have to sign some in her capacity of "guardian" as well, but for better or worse, Ul'dah's age of majority for a business holder was just low enough for her to apply. After all, how else were wealthy business owners going to leave things in the names of their underaged children in order to commit fraud?

It was only an hour later that Uzuki was accepting her first client and her first employee at the same time, Jana herself. With her help, word of Uzuki's new business would hopefully spread far and wide amongst the adventuring community. But there was one more thing the Auri teen had to do.

One didn't have to be old enough to drink to sign up at the Adventurers' Guild. In exchange for all her help, Jana had demanded Uzuki become an adventurer like herself, to better know the lives her clients were leading, their needs, and their wants. Which meant another round of paperwork... Uzuki already had her personal seal in hand.

[gotta-pet-em-all]

[An audio file is attached. Would you like to listen?

"Okay. So this is going to keep recording your voice while we talk," Pine explains.

"Fascinating," says someone, muffled slightly as if behind glass. "I’ve seen photography cameras that can preserve images, but now they can do the same with voices?"

Fluff gives a short laugh. "Yeah. You can even take videos. If you want, after this I can show you some of my little feather baby Cari! She’s a togetic."

"I see… I need a moment."

"Ah, sorry. Is it overwhelming?"

A pause where a shrug might be. "Not really. The ginkgo guild would frequently have us take time to organize, with only minimal local contact after we reached a new place. So I don’t mind the quarantine much, unlike my neighbors."

"Oh shit, we haven't introduced ourselves," Fluff realizes. The audio file cuts to elevator music for a moment.

"Volo Ward, merchant of the Ginkgo Guild. Typically, you’re supposed to introduce yourself by where you’re from, but I don’t exactly have that. So my occupation will have to do."

"So you traveled?" Pine asks, sounding excited. "What sort of places did you see? What kind of cultural differences did you notice?"

"The damned Kalosians, I swear. They have the best textiles, so we’d buy things wholesale from them to distribute, but they didn’t standardize their textile names. So you had to go to six suppliers and get seven names for the same fabric. We had to recruit someone to help us label them. Apparently there’s a general name, and then there’s the local name, and you need both. Ah, what else… in Paldea, the roads aren’t traveled much after dark, so the local kids will play on the roads outside of their houses. I was allowed to join in, once I’d finished my chores."

Fabric rustles for a moment before Pine asks, "Do you recognize what this is for?"

"Oh!" Volo sounds pleasantly surprised. "I used to play with those all the time as a kid. Why is it labeled a ritual object?"

"I think that’s something archaeologists do when they don’t want to admit that they don’t know what’s going on," Fluff says, with all the confidence of someone who knows only what she's been told about archaeology by people who are thoroughly pissed at the field but love it anyways.

"Not to be petty but I am going to demolish some of the ignorant old quacks in this field," Pine says, very quietly, with malicious intent.

"As you should!" A muffled thump. "It’s a beautiful field that’s been tainted by ignorance and racism from old men who think they know better than anyone else and treat it as a curiosity rather than giving it the love it deserves. Ah-- apologies. I didn't mean to get that heated."

"Oh, our partner would love to chat with you," Fluff says confidently. There follows a few moments of audible confusion before Volo seems to remember non-monogamy as an option.

"So, ah. I’m afraid I’ve never been up to date on the culture around me, so you might want to ask one of the sisters if you can get them to talk to you. They like gold, but they’ll take food too. Hm… I could tell you about my job?"

"With the Ginkgo Guild? What sort of wares did you typically sell?"

"Hm, lots of potions recently. Things are changing, and pokemon are-- were, ah, seen as beings to live alongside, rather than to fear and revere and only use for one’s own purposes. Medicinal leeks were the bread and butter of our trade."

"They’re endangered in the wild now," Fluff says, almost apologetically. "Overharvesting. They had to synthesize an alternative."

"...I see. You used to be able to find them wherever there was a shady spot under a tree. Near rivers, too. I’ll miss them. When I was a kid, I learned that if I got a cut, I could just snap off a little bit of the stem and rub it on, and it would keep the wound from going sour."

Pine makes a confused noise. "Wait, how old are you? Or is this a thing where the age of majority was different?"

"Twenty-six," Volo says flatly. There is an long pause. "I look about as old as your friend, I know."

"Wait, how old do you think I am?" Fluff asks. "To clarify. I thought you might be.... twelve?"

"You look maybe thirteen."

"Nineteen. Actually," she says tiredly. "Chronic baby face, I’m looking forward to getting grey hairs. My condolences."

A pause, as Volo searches for the right words. "The timespace distortion changed me. And my pokemon as well. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it."

"Are you okay with talking about the Nobles and their purpose, then? If you'd rather not talk about yourself."

Volo makes a vague noise. "Rei would know more than me. Ah, but he and I aren't on speaking terms at the moment. I don’t really exactly have any desire to go back. All of us are here because we chose to leave Hisui behind, after all."

"Wasn't it... your home? Or, I know you roamed, but an entirely new era can't be easy to adapt to...."

"It won't be, no. But I’m looking for a fresh start. I suppose I was looking for the approval of someone who was supposed to watch over me and my family. But it never happened. I waited all that time, but I was never worth coming back for."

"…your dad?" Fluff guesses.

"No. A deity," Volo says dryly. "Ah, what’s the modern term? A deadbeat dad."

Pine makes a choked laugh. "I-- you're not wrong."

"Well, uh. Welcome to Pasio. I made bread?" Fluff offers.

"I saw that," Volo says, sounding amused. "Thank you. I'm likely going to wait out my containment in here, and then explore, see what this new world has to offer."

There's the sound of a door opening, and a new voice. "Hey, uh. Are you guys about finished up? I was going to visit my cousin real quick."

"That's all right. I think I was just finished here," Volo says. "Clover? Could you please tell Rei his cousin is here to visit?"

Video ends.